Angel of Music
by Kuria
Summary: AU. A DNAngel take on Phantom of the Opera. When the young tenor Daisuke catches the eye of both the deadly Opera Ghost Satoshi and the lovely patron Riku, who will win his heart? Or will the conflict of this love triangle silence his voice forever?
1. Act 1: Think of Me

Buwaha! Fear my new fanfic! This is breaking new grounds for me, people. Not only is it yaoi and romance centered, it's AU! I totally rule! Buwaha! Buwaha! Buwahaha!

coughs Now, onto stuff that doesn't make me sound like a ranting psycho loser. You know, warnings an' stuff. I know this may get VERY OOC. 'Specially on the part of Dark and Krad. And Takeshi. And Risa. But god dammit, I needed people to FILL those roles! And it's far more amusing to see characters you know and love in these roles! You WILL get over it, now that I have warned you. As for the main little kiddos- Phantom(Satoshi), Daisuke, and Riku- they'll be more in character. Or, at least, as in character as they can be stuck in a different universe in completely different roles. o.o

And be forewarned, this isn't going to follow the musical exactly. It will in the beginning (because I have a copy of the SCRIPT, SUCKAS!), but then I will take it wherever the hell I want to. No complainers, no whiners. But those kind of comments are welcome. I love to laugh at stupidity, as I am often caught being stupid myself. It's nice to know there are bigger idoits out there then me.

Oh, and if this idea has already been done, I wouldn't know. I haven't really been reading DN Angel as of late, I was just watching the DVD from Netflix (THE BEST THING IN THE WORLD! NETFLIX IS MY GOD! GO GET IT! DVDS! DVDS!), and then afterward, I was listening to PotO music. And the two just clicked. So, if there are others out there, I am sorry. Give me the link, and I'll be sure to make sure there are lightyears between our two fanfictions. I really don't mean to copy. And I hate the very idea this might be possible. So please, inform me, kay? 'Coz really, I don't read much DN Angel. I just like to write it. XP

Okay, now for the little disclaimer so I don't get angry comments/hate mail/lawyers at my door. I don't own NOTHING. All characters from DN Angel are not mine, as is the plot to Phantom of the Opera. If you think I own any of this, kindly check yourself into the happy white house, not the Presidential kind, 'coz they don't believe a word you say there. And I REALLY don't like lawyers. Even though I do like going to court. Don't ask. O.o

**Angel of Music**

**Act 1- Think of Me**

Act 1, Scene 1

"Okay!" Yelled a man, clutching a small, poorly-bound book in one hand, and curving his other hand over his mouth to amplify his voice. "Act 3 is what we're starting! ACT 3, PEOPLE!"

The opera house was busting at the seams with all of the people running frantically back and forth. Dancers stepped daintily in a white powder while others stretched. Two men carried a large prop to the back of the theater. Two girls giggled behind the curtain, dressed head to toe in their costumes. A pompous-looking man stood in the middle of it all, decked out in such a costume it was near the point of ridiculous. The gold and purple of his outfit glinted in the light of the theater, outlining his pompous smirk. His dark brown hair was hidden beneath the headpiece given, he made it clear that he commanded all around him, making said point felt with a diva air. Another very diva-looking individual, a woman in an elaborate costume of gold and blue holding a prop severed head, put one hand on her hips, swinging the head back and forth, looking around annoyed, her brunette hair combed back carefully, gold pieces strung throughout her hair.

The stage they all bustled about on stood brightly lit, the dark wooded floors reflecting well the candles hidden at the front of the stage. The orchestra tuned in their pit, an abused looking conductor watching them with a careful gaze, commenting every now and then with a tired air. Beyond him, a sea of seats made of red crushed velvet with golden trimmings. The matching red walls and golden-looking pillars offset the most breath-taking part of the theater- the brightly lit chandler that hung high overhead. The cherubs and angels carved onto the walls watched over the busy theater. The conductor looked at the people on the stage.

"Monsieur Takeshi, La Harada, please, from the top," He asked, tapping his stand. La Harada nodded, and stood center stage, holding the severed head in front of her, her face contorting into one of victory.

"This trophy from our saviours, from the enslaving force of Rome!" She cried triumphantly, people still moving and constructing the set behind her. The chorus makes their entrance onto the stage, their costumes shining in the light of the theater.

"With feasting and dancing and song, tonight in celebration we greet the victorious throng, returned to bring salvation!" Came the voices of the girls as they danced in, waving their hands and shaking their hips to the rhythm of the song, the little beads of gold hanging off their wrists and ankles chiming together as they moved.

"The trumpets of Carthage resound ! Hear, Romans, now and tremble! Hark to our step on the ground!" Cried the voices of the males as they danced in as well, moving boldly and triumphantly.

"Hear the drums- Hannibal comes!" They sang in unison, freezing in place. Monsieur Takeshi made his way to the middle of the stage, a sad look on his angular face as all the attention was focused only on him.

"Sad to return to find the land we love threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grasp..." He said, his hand gripped tightly around his prop sword.

"No, no NO! Good monsieur, it is ROME, not Roma! We say Rome, not Roma!" Reyer raved, tapping the mess out of his music stand. Takeshi drew himself up, glaring down Reyer.

"Well," He began, "I say Roma, and so it shall be!" He turned around to the cast, and yelled, "ROMA! ROMA!" He roared, taking his sword out and pointing it toward the cast. Reyer buried his face in his hands, shaking his head.

"Why does the good God curse me with such a star...?" He muttered to himself as he tapped out the image of the cross on his torso, earning snickers from those close enough to hear him. And through the hustle and bustle of this dress rehearsal, stood two bewildered, well-dressed men, and a tired-looking man, dressed as if prepared for a trip.

"This, fine gentlemen, is the Opera Populaire." Said the tired-looking gentleman with a weak, loving smile as he held out his arm, ignoring Monsieur's Takeshi's outburst as if it were normal. "In the middle of the dress rehearsal for Chalumeau's 'Hannibal', of course. It opens tonight." He added offhandedly. One of the bewildered gentlemen lightly hit the other on the arm, his handsome face forming into a smile. This one had wild, yet at the same time oddly tamed purple hair, his top hat simply smushing his hair into a matted mess at the top. His dark suit offset his brilliant red eyes perfectly, and despite the mismatch of the hat, he was strikingly handsome

"I told you this was a good idea, Krad! This will make us so much money, we can swim in it!" He whispered eagerly to his partner, a proud and greedy grin spread across his face. The other one smiled back. His golden eyes scanned his new property, calculating and observant. His hair was almost the exact same as his partner's except a beautiful golden color and longer, however just as wild yet tamed. He had a navy blue suit, finely cut and pressed. He had no hat, which was for the best. The tired-looking man looked to the partners.

"Monsieurs, tell me, it is through the junk business you accumulated so much money, no?" He asked, curiously. The blond one called Krad, sighed.

"SCRAP metal, good sir Kousuke. Scrap metal. And, if it is not out of place to ask," Krad asked, looking at the tired man called Kousuke carefully, "Why is it you leave the Opera Populaire?"

"Ah, forgive me, monsieur." He apologized, simply addressing his first statement and ignoring the second. Krad raised a questioning eyebrow.

Over to the side, the dancers spun around and leaped in time with the music, which had started up once more, and those who doubled as part of the chorus sang while they all danced in rhythm. Dark looked at them curiously, interested in his new property as well.

"You seem to have quite a good bit of male dancers," commented Dark in uncertain manner. "It is quite an unusual sight." Kousuke nodded.

"It is part of the interest drawn to our operas." He said, waving a hand in the air. One of them absent-mindedly fell out of step, and a woman who had been watching the dancers like a hawk, snapped her head in his direction. The woman did not look too terribly old- she looked not far over 20, 30 at the most. Her short light brown hair was swept into a small bun at the back of her head, her brows furrowed in anger at the young man.

"You, Daisuke Niwa! Concentrate!" She barked. His crimson eyes go wide at his mistake, and quickly falls back into step, his matching crimson locks bouncing up and down with his movements. His face looks almost as if it were on fire with the boy's cheeks burning in embarrassment.

"That boy, who is he, Kousuke?" Dark asks, a laugh on his face from the boy's mistake.

"Daisuke Niwa."

"Niwa?" Krad asked, curious. "Any relation to the famous violinist?"

"His only son. He came to here after his father's death. Has his head in the clouds, poor boy. Madame Emiko can be quite the tyrant. However, it is simply a sign of her dedication and love of the dance. And don't be fooled. She loves the boy like her own child," Kousuke says, shaking his head with a slight chuckle. The chorus and dancers parted the stage.

"Bid welcome to Hannibal's guests -the elephants of Carthage! As guides on our conquering quests, Dido sends Hannibal's friends!" They sang. A large mechanical replica made its way through the parted chorus, its head lifting and shifting in jerky motions. Certain cast members make their way to Takeshi, who is lifted to the top of the elephant, grinning triumphantly. La Harada made her way to the side of the elephant, looking up at Takeshi with glowingly happy eyes.

"Once more to my welcoming arms my love returns in splendour!" She sang as she outstretched her arms toward Takeshi. Takeshi looked down at her, still grinning happily.

"Once more to those sweetest of charms my heart and soul surrender!" He sang. The chorus made their way around the elephant and La Harada, leaping and spinning as one.

"The trumpeting elephants sound hear, Romans, now and tremble! Hark to their step on the ground hear the drums! Hannibal comes!" The sang at a crescendo, and all stopped.

At the end of this phrase, Kousuke straightened his back and clapped his hands together. "Silence, please! Yes, everyone! M. Reyer, please quiet the orchastra..." Reyer looked at him, annoyed at the interruption, but quieted the orchestra. Everyone around him slowly stopped what they were doing, and looked at him. Takeshi was taken off the elephant, and it was led off stage. Kousuke smiled fondly at them all. "You may have heard rumor of my retirement." There came sounds of acknowledgment, and many pairs of eyes studied him carefully. He paused, closed his eyes tightly, and then opened them, a look of bitter-sweet on his face. "The rumors are true. I am now pleased to announce the new owners of the Opera Populaire, Monsieurs Dark Mousy and Krad Hikari." Polite applause meets his statement, and far to the side of the stage, money exchanges hands. Takeshi smirks to himself, and makes sticks himself out a bit, making his presence known, as does La Harada. Kousuke motions to La Harada. "Gentlemen, our leading soprano, Signora Risa Harada. And Monsieur Takeshi, our leading tenor for five years straight." Krad gives a short bow

"Of course. I have seen your greatest triumphs, Monsieur Takeshi, La Harada." Krad said, straightening back up. Dark follows him in a sweeping bow.

"I cannot attest to my fellow's claims, but I have seen one or two of your roles, Monsieur Takeshi." Dark said. Krad looked to Takeshi with a small smile.

"If I am correct, senor, Hannibal has a stirring song within in this act to his love before departing. Would you do us a favor as the new managers, and give us a private rendition?" He asks, tilting his head slightly. Takeshi smiled slightly.

"If my manager commands..." He said, faking a slight tone of a humble quality. "Monsieur Reyer?" He said sharply, turning to the abused conductor.

"If my diva commands..." Reyer muttered darkly. "Is three bars of introduction sufficient?" He said, looking at Takeshi, tapping his stand once more as the orchestra prepared. Takeshi nodded. Reyer raised his baton. "Senor?"

"Maestro."

The music began. Keeping at a soft level, the piano played the first bars as Takeshi opened his mouth and began to sang.

"Think of me,

Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye!

Remember me, once in while,

Promise me you'll try!

When you find that once agai..." Takeshi never got to finish. A chorus girl screeched as the backdrop fell violently from the ceiling, barely missing Takeshi by mere inches. His mouth frozen open for a few seconds in pure terror, Takeshi composed himself as his new managers and his old one rushed over.

"He's here!" Screamed one of the girls in pure horror, her hands brought up to her face and covering her mouth. "He's here, the phantom of the opera! It is the ghost!" The cast stirred, the girls huddling together in a frightened, shaking mass and the men trying their best to stand tall, but with obvious looks of apprehension and fear on every inch of their faces.

"Monsieur! Monsieur Takeshi, are you alright?" Krad asked, eyes widened. Kousuke looked up at the man a few levels up. He looked slightly dirty, and a bit overweight. In his hand, he held a snapped rope, mangled in a way the resembled a noose.

"Buquet!" He snapped. "Buquet!"

"Monsieur?" He answered, calmly.

"Buquet, what happened?" Kousuke asked.

"I do not know, good monsieur. I was not at my post..." He said, trailing off as he flicked the piece of rope in his hand, and sick, amused smile forming on his lips. "Perhaps, monsieur, it was a ghost?"

"He's there!" Came a girl different then the one who had screamed, pointing a shaking finger toward the bridge-like walkways on which Buquet was suspended. "The phantom of the opera!" The cast muttered in agreement. One of the women fainted.

"Good god, woman, calm down!" Krad snapped. "There is no such thing as ghosts!"

"These things do happen, monsieur..." Dark said to Takeshi, attempting to be helpful. Takeshi's eyes widened in anger, and he ripped his head dress off his head and threw it to the ground.

"THESE THINGS DO HAPPEN? SI! THESE THINGS DO HAPPEN!" He shrieked at them, balling his fist and waving it in their faces. "WELL, UNTIL YOU STOP THESE THINGS," Takeshi pointed a shaking finger toward himself. "THIS THING DOES NOT HAPPEN!" He said, screeching the last bit, his words reverberating on the walls. He stormed off the stage toward the exit, a few personal assistants following the man on his rampage out the door. Risa smirked and waved a hand toward the new managers as she turned to go to her dressing room.

"Amateurs. Seniors, you have much to learn!" She said airly, and walked off, her own personal assistants in tow. Kousuke turned to the men, a fake encouraging smile on his face.

"Well, monsieurs, I don't believe there is a thing I can do to help you! If you need me, I shall be in Germany. Good day!" He said quickly, and made a hasty exit out the door. Krad and Dark looked at each other, each with a different form of worry on his face.

"Monsieur Takeshi...will...be back?" Dark said, uncertainty dripping off his voice.

"You believe it so? I have a letter from the opera ghost." Madame Emiko says lightly, holding up a piece of crisp paper between her fingers with a broken, blood-red seal on it. Krad glared at the woman.

"Dear God, you all are obsessed!" He exclaimed, narrowing his eyes into thin lines as if challenging her to deny. Emiko, unfazed, opens the letter, and looks from the paper to the new managers, an unreadable expression on her face.

"He wishes to welcome you to his opera house..." She started, and Dark balled his hands into fists.

"HIS opera house?" He hissed. Not skipping a beat, Emiko continues.

"And he would like to inform you he has a monthly salary to be paid, and it is due. AND," She said, making this word heard before the men could say something, "He would like you to know that his box is to be left unoccupied for his use tonight."

"A salary? You pay a MADMAN who pretends to be a ghost a SALARY?" Dark yelled, throwing his hat down on the ground. The hair bunched up in it fell loose, and most fell around his eyes, making the deep red glare from beneath the hair seem all the more frightening.

"Not me, Monsieur Kousuke did. Perhaps," She said, a small smile forming on her face, "With your new patron, you can easily afford more?" The cast stirred at this new information, glances exchanged as the people muttered.

"We had hoped to divulge this information ourselves, good madame." Krad said, dryly, running a hand through his hair from nerves. "Yes, the Opera Populaire has a new patron, a one Riku de Chagny." The cast stirred once more. The red-head Daisuke's head perked up at the information.

"Riku..." He said quietly to himself, a small happy smile forming on his lips and his eyes slid out of focus. A small blush formed on his face. A boy standing next to Daisuke looked at him oddly. This boy's hair was red as well, almost the exact shade as Daisuke's. His eyes were also strikingly similar, but were a darker red in color. There was one major difference between them- the boy was much taller, and built slightly different then Daisuke. Also, their faces were dissimilar...except they had the exact same smile and nose.

"Something wrong, Daisuke?" He asked. Daisuke did nothing. The boy waved his hand in front of his face. "Daisuke?" The boy's face curved into a mischevious smile. "Daisuki?" The boy said, a trace of laughter in his voice. Daisuke's head snapped up and turned to the boy, the slight tinge still on his face.

"You did it again, Wit...Daiki." Daisuke said, stumbling then catching himself on his choice of name. The boy simply smiled, and soon did Daisuke, the previous question being all but ignored as they focused their attention to the dilemia up front.

Dark ran his fingers through his hair.

"Dammit, Krad, who's going to sing tonight?" He exclaimed, his face lined with worry.

"Was there an understudy?" Krad asked Reyer desperately. "Anyone at all who can sing it?" Reyer snorted.

"Monsieur! An understudy? Takeshi knows NOT this word. There IS no understudy." He said, tapping his stand once more.

"A whole house, Krad! We will have to refund a full house!" Dark said desperately.

"Daisuke Niwa can sing the part, monsieurs." Madame Emiko said, tilting her head slightly and extending her hand to him. Daisuke turned red.

"E...eh?" Was all the boy could spit out. Daiki snickered. Dark ignored Madame Emiko completely, starting to pace.

"A full house! Dammit!" He said, lost in his own world. Krad, however, heard Emiko and cocked an eyebrow.

"The Niwa boy?" He repeated.

"He has been well-trained." Madame Emiko said sternly, no question in her voice. Dark finally stopped pacing.

"Well then!" He exclaimed, still sounding a little frantic. "Let the damn boy sing!" Krad looked over to Daisuke, who was still scarlet.

"Will you sing Monsieur Takeshi's song?" Krad questioned, doubt lining his words. After all, this boy was small- how could he pull off such a powerful song?

Daisuke simply nodded. He stood there for a bit, until Daiki pushed him out, laughing at the boy. The cast, starting to relax, snickered a bit.

"Go, Daisuki!" He said in a low whisper, smiling at their private joke. Reyer simply rolled his eyes, and started the music. The piano played as Daisuke stumbled into place.

Then something happened to the red-headed boy. His eyes closed for a second, and then they opened, with the gentle and pleading feelings the song expressed radiating from him. His every movement, his every look reflected the very heart of the song. He became the very being that the song was, that the character was, all traces of Daisuke Niwa gone. He was now Hannibal. He smiled a smile of sweet sorrow, and began to sing.

"Think of me,

Think of me fondly

When we've said goodbye!

Remember me, once in while,

Promise me you'll try!

When you find that once again you longed to take your heart back and be free,

If you ever find a moment,

Spare a thought for me!" He sang. The piano stopped playing. The theater was dead silent.

"I believe...we have found our understudy." Krad said slowly, grinning for the first time that day.

End Act 1, Scene 1

**End of Act 1**

Whee! First chapter is done! I'm so proud...now, on small details like Riku's name and such, know that I really don't care, this is an alternate universe, and you can just suck it up. I'm not following PotO or DN Angel to the exact T. This is MY AU, and you can deal. o.o

Things will get a little more intresting later on...so, favorite this sucker! Review! SHOW ME LOVE! MOTIVATE ME TO WRITE! NYAH HA!


	2. Act 2: Angel of Music

Hi again! Kuku here with the second chapter! Wow, I got a great response to this. I know this is sad compared to other fanficitons, but 7 ain't half a bad a start for me. And for a first chapter? Nice guys, nice! You're all on my favorite people list now. XP

And if you read and didn't review, you can still redeem yourself, you know. I still love you, just not as much as the Reviewing Children. O.o

Now, for the suck-ups and thank yous! Me love you long times go out to XxMidnightRosesxX (Well, your wish is my command! More story it is! wiggles nose), Kute Anime Kitty (Netflix is awsome, isn't it? Yay fellow Netflix fan! Your wait is over, my friend. New chapter for yous!), Luna (That was the shortest review in the history of ever. And so straight to the point! Continue, indeed!), Molly-Chan the AnimeGame Fan (Dude, love the name. And I'm so honored that my fanfiction has caused you to review. I know I personally barely review, much less read a story that has just come out and has only one chapter, so I'm happy you think mine's good enough for such an honor. Yay honors!), kingmaker (I am posting another one! See? Here it is! And don't worry about sounding stalk-ish. I have plenty of friends who are far more stalk-y then you. It takes lots to creep me out. So no worries, kay? ), Akako (I am glad you like it. ), and Misako Mine (Please don't die! I need all the reviewers I can get! . But I'm glad you like it enough to die of happiness. I'll make sure the Phantom visits your grave with a pretty rose. o.o)

Now, you may notice some changes I made in the format! You see, no matter what I did, it didn't seperate the rants (here) and the story (below) well. So, I decided to set it up kinda like a script to a play. When there's a change in who the story is following or scenery, it will end an scene, and each chapter is an act. Yes! I am very clever! Thank you for noticing!

And I am personally pleased with how the Phantom came across in this. Remember, this is horror, so he will be just a BIT on the creepy/obsessive side. Like, more so then the musical. So, don't throw things at me, IT'S HOW I'M GOING TO RUN THE SHOW! THIS IS NOT GOING TO BE SOME BUBBLY LITTLE ROMANCE! The rating might go up later...I don't know how descriptive I'm going to get with the killings and crap. Just so you know. o.o

**Angel of Music**

**Act 2- Angel of Music**

Act 2, Scene 1

Daisuke fidgeted nervously off-stage. Krad and Dark were on stage right now, making the many announcements heard last night, including the fact that he, Daisuke Niwa, would be replacing Monsieur Takeshi. His flaming red locks were smashed under the large hat of Hannibal, and he only wished he could use the mass weight of the headpiece to crush the butterflies ramming against the walls in his stomach. He knew he'd be fine the minute the music started, but that didn't help him there and now. He ran a finger down the side of one of the velvet curtains, crushing the material in his hand and letting it fall elegantly off his fingers. He sighed. How could he expect to follow in THE Takeshi's shoes? He's the person the entire house came to see tonight. He was...red?

He looked at the velvet that had been in his hands, which had straightened itself out. It was a deep red. A deep red, like his seals. The Opera Ghost...his dark angel. A white mask flashed into his mind, and the piercing blue eyes looking at him from within the small eye hole of the mask, his only windows into his mentor's soul. The cold, blue eyes that haunted his dreams and followed his every move. They were everywhere. Those eyes, that white mask. A sudden shudder went through his spine. He was there. Watching. Like he always was. His lips curved into a happy smile and the butterflies flew away. He would be alright. His cold yet warm, ugly yet beautiful angel wouldn't let anything touch him. The music of the orchestra swelled. The singing of the chorus came to a fever pitch, the notes quivering in the air, watching, waiting for Hannibal. Watching, waiting for him. He felt all his fears leave, as if just the simple fact his angel was watching could take all his worries away on white wings, and allow him to become Hannibal. To become perfect. He strode out onto stage, commanding all around him. Hannibal was here.

End Act 2, Scene 1

Act 2, Scene 2

From the walkway along the walls near the ceiling of the theater he watched. His black-gloved hands graced the rails as he held on, his breath caught in his throat. A smile of triumph curved onto his face as the small tenor walked onto stage in all of his glory, the not-so-subtle candlelight reflecting off his beautiful face, every innocent curve and angle. And his eyes. They were the glory of his face. Those large, red pools could see into his dirty, bare soul. And still those eyes would smile at him. This was the one boy that brought humanity and light into his dark and hellish life. His only saving grace. His sweet angel. That boy was his, and his alone, even if the boy was not aware of it. He wouldn't let anyone touch his brilliant, innocent treasure of a songbird. The darkly-clothed being that was him turned and left. Nothing would get in the way of him and his small angel. Nothing.

End Act 2, Scene 2

Act 2, Scene 3

The girl twitched as another piece of light brown fell out of place. She took a deep breath, and tried to blow it back into place, but the stubborn piece of hair just wouldn't listen. She tried again. Failed. She sighed heavily, and slumped back into the chair. It was red crushed velvet like everything else, but this was cushioned with down feathers, making it like sitting on top of a cloud. And why not? She was in manager's box. Everything here was made to be pleasant and wonderful, down to the painted mural on the small dome of a ceiling above her. Two angel statues on either side of the box looked down toward the stage, which is where she was supposed to be watching. But, really, she didn't really wish to watch tonight. Don't get her wrong, normally she loved the opera. This fact usually surprised people, as she acted as a bit of a 'tomboy', but she was thrilled by the magic, by the music, by the story. That is, after all, why she begged her parents to allow her to patron the Opera Populaire in her name, not her family's. There was nothing WRONG with this opera in particular, from what she saw, it was a triumph. But her heart was not in it. Her heart had become heavy as of late- something was missing. She couldn't figure out what it was, but something was gone.

She sighed once more as she flattened the creases in her white dress. Just concentrate on the opera. She peered through the golden opera glasses, her large, chocolate brown eyes carefully watching the action on the stage. Maybe this would get her mind off her heart. Annoying little bitchy thing, it was. She hadn't really paid the opera justice with her lack of attention. She might as well start now. But there was only one character on the stage. The person was playing Hannibal, correct? It'd make sense. He seemed rather small for the role, but from what she heard from the monsieurs Dark and Krad, his voice was plenty good. Now that she thought about it as she begun to listen carefully, he was...perfect. She looked more carefully at the boy through her opera glasses. His face...it was...familiar. She couldn't place it, but her heart fluttered at the sight of him. She drew back immediately from the reaction of her heart, dropping the opera glasses in slight shock. How could she...why did she...? She blinked at Hannibal's singing form, each note more majestic then the last. She slowly reached down for the opera glasses, her eyes not daring to leave Hannibal. Her groping hands finally found their prize, and she brought them up to her face, breathing deeply. Hannibal slowly took off his headpiece, his red locks springing into place after being released from their cage. Her heart raced. There was not mistaking him now!

"Dai...Daisuke?" She muttered to herself, a goofy grin spreading across her face. "Little Dai?" She abruptly stood out of her chair, rushing to lean on the railing of the box, watching her childhood sweetheart sing in rapture. She absent-mindedly twirled a finger on the carvings of the railing as lost herself in the beauty of his voice. "Long ago...it seems so long ago...how young and innocent we were...I don't think he'll remember me...but I remember him..." She whispered to herself, entrapped by the boy's song. Perhaps, just perhaps, Daisuke was what was missing from her heart.

End Act 2, Scene 3

Act 2, Scene 4

The curtains closed, but did not dull the thunderous applause from the other side of the crimson barrier. Daisuke let out a large sigh, and his legs gave out from beneath him as the opera left him exhausted. He wasn't used to having to project his voice so far, and having all those eyes on you, and just you- it was hard work, mentally and physically. He immediately yelped as the gold decorations dug into his legs, and he stumbled to get back up.As he scrambled back up to his feet, he fell right onto Madame Emiko. The impact threw her off a bit, but she gripped the boy's arms and steadied him. He turned around, and scratched the back of his head as well as one could with a giant hat on his head.

"Eh heh heh...sorry, madame!" He said sheepishly, squinting slightly as he waited for the onslaught on his clumsiness.. He blinked as his hand fell slightly from behind his head and looked at her in slight surprise. It didn't come. In fact, she didn't seem angry at all- she wasn't even wearing her usual hawk-like gaze, but instead looked at him warmer tonight.

"You did well tonight, Daisuke. He will be pleased." She whispered as so only Daisuke could hear her as she pulled his off headpiece, her eyes shining. "I am pleased. You have done your father proud." She said, rising her voice to normal as put the hat on the ground and ruffled his hair, much like a mother would. "And you have done me proud." Daisuke blushed at the compliments, and nodded his head, a large smile consuming his face.

"Y..yes. Thank you, madame!" He said, his eyes shining happily. She nodded, her face resuming its usual hawk-like look as she turned to the dancers, commencing to yelling at them for their lazy performance. Despite the peril of his friends, he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. Those four simple words- 'He will be pleased'- caused such an explosive mix of happiness and fear to him. He loved to please his dark master, but at the same time, he felt a slight bit of fear, screaming at him from the back of his mind. He didn't know why he felt afraid of his Phantom- he had done nothing to hurt him- but it was the feelings that the ghost held behind his cold, white mask that he worried about. His eyes spoke stories no other part of him would, and they told of some deep, underlying anger or fear or something of the like. Something he was hiding, and Daisuke feared what it was.

Daisuke shook his head at his foolish and irritation fear. Why should he fear the one who gave him reason to sing? His eyes shone once more as he managed to find his way to his dressing room. That outfit was, after all, a major pain.

End Act 2, Scene 4

Act 2, Scene 5

He watched him, unseen and unnoticed. He smirked in triumph. He could see his little angel, but yet he could not see him. His eyes softened slightly as his angel stared off into space, sighing with exhaustion. He reached out to him, his dark hand shaking slightly. He touched the boy's image on the mirror, and traced his jawline with his finger. The boy shuddered slightly, as if he could feel his light caress on his face. He withdrew his hand. The boy shook his head, his red hair bouncing about.

"Better...get out of this...outfit. Jingly..." He heard the boy mutter to himself, walking behind the screen placed in the room in case of unwelcome visitors. He took a sharp breath, his heart starting to race. How he wanted his sweet little angel...just a small peak of him, his pale, bare skin, his innocent eyes looking at him, filled with love and desire... He backed into the stone wall behind him, the uneven layering of the stones causing some to dig their freezing points into his back. He welcomed the pain. He had to calm down. He'd get his angel. But for now, he had to calm down. To let his emotions take control of his actions now would lead to his distrust. If he went in their now, he'd loose him forever. His hand clutched the crimson vest he wore under his black satin cloak. Slow down. Slow down. Slow the heart down...

He saw his angel reemerge, his outfit an obviously more comfortable one. His shirt was white, and very loose-fitting. The sleeves were cuffed at the wrist, leaving large folds of cloth hanging off his arms. At the top were two ties to tie the top together, as there was a small dip in the cloth that one might want to close, but he left it open. His pants were black, and not extremely loose, but not skin-tight- a comfortable middle ground. Nothing special. He saw his sweet angel smile, obviously more relaxed. He walked the dresser's mirror, making sure his hair wasn't too damaged. He cracked a smile. It was cute. Then he saw his angel look down. Ignoring all other flowers, he saw him gingerly pick up his rose. Its petals were blood red- the exact color of his seals. A black satin ribbon was tied carefully in a bow around the stem. The rose was not in full-bloom, but closed. He held his breath. A small unreadable look flashed across his face- what was it? hate? fear? anger?- but before he could carefully examine him, he broke out into a large smile, carefully untying the ribbon then tyeing it around his wrist, carefully hiding it with his sleeve like it was his private secret. He grinned and stepped away from the wall. He didn't want to cause his back to start bleeding again.

"Bravo...Daisuke..." He said in a loud whisper, knowing that it would carry. The boy's head snapped up as he looked around the room.

"Angel...?" The boy whispered, his eyes wide. He suppressed a chuckle. He loved how the boy called HIM an angel. If he was indeed an angel, then he was an angel in Hell. And his sweet angel was from Heaven, coming to rescue his wretched heart. And he wasn't going to let anything stop it. Nothing.

End of Act 2, Scene 5

Act 2, Scene 6

"Daisuke? Daisuke? Daisuki..." came a voice from the door. Daisuke blinked, the voice bringing him out of trance. He was thinking about the Angel. After all, he had just called to him...and said he did good...his cheeks tinged at the thought. Nothing could make him happier.

"Daisuki!" The voice came again, this time louder. With a little 'oh!', Daisuke quickly made his way to the door, and opened it for his friend. Daiki grinned at him from the doorway.

"Hello, Hannibal the Perfect!" He said as he walked in, Daisuke closing the door behind him.

"It's clear, With." He said simply, turning from the door. But the form of Daiki wasn't there anymore. Instead, on his dresser was a fluffy white creature with large ears and a small cotton-like tail. The creature had the exact color of eyes as Daiki, and looked up at Daisuke with admiration. Daisuke laughed, and picked him up.

"With, don't look at me like that! You know you've heard better...I'm sure that monsieur Takeshi would have done a much better job."

"Kyuu!" With answered, narrowing his eyes.

"It is not a lie! You know he would have."

"Kyuu." With shook his fuzzy little head.

"You lie, With!" Daisuke said, laughing. "Don't deny it. But, you do know who helped me tonight, right?"

"Kyuu?"

"The Angel of Music, that's who! You know the story better then I, you've been alive so much longer. And in the family longer..." He petted his head. "I am really glad you are here, though. I don't know what I'd do without you. Besides the Angel, you're the best gift that Father has ever given me." He said, scratching behind With's ears. With sighed slightly.

"Kyuuu..."He said contently. Daisuke smiled, starting to sing to an old tune that his father once played on the violin.

"Father once spoke of angel...

I used to dream he'd appear.

Now when I sing, I can since him,

And I know he's here!

Here in this room, he calls me softly!

Somewhere inside, hiding!

Somehow I know he's always with me,

Here, the unseen genius!" Daisuke put With on the dresser and tapped his nose before looking pulling down his sleeve to hold out his wrist with the black ribbon hanging off of it."Angel of music!

Guide and guardian!

Bring to me your glory!

Angel of music, hide no longer!

Secret and strange angel!" He picked up With again, who pawed at the ribbon. "He's with me even now.." He paused as With jumped onto the dresser again, cocking his head at the boy. "All around me..." His face fell slightly, as his voice started to quiver slightly, finally admitting something to himself he really didn't want to. "It...frightens me..." He sang, his voice below a whisper. With looked at him, his eyes saddened with worry.

"Kyuu..." With whispered, hopping off the dresser to paw at Daisuke's pants. The boy looked down, his arm with the ribbon now quivering slightly. With looked at him once again with his sad eyes, his own way of saying 'I understand'. Daisuke scooped up the small creature and hugged him close.

"...Thank you..."

End of Act 2, Scene 6

Act 2, Scene 7

"Madame! Madame Riku! Please wait!" called a voice from behind a rapidly moving female dressed in the finest white dress one could buy.

Riku, however, did not stop.

Once the opera was over, she was an unstoppable force, hell nor high waters stopping her from going to see her old sweetheart. Daisuke was here, and she was not going to loose sight of him! Not when he still made her heart beat so, even after all these years. As she saw the people with flowers increase in number, she figured she was nearing Daisuke's room, or a flower shop. Since the flower shop was not likely, it had to be Daisuke. Her lips spread into such a grin that it might have appeared goofy or lovesick. Daisuke was so near! Her heart began to race. A door? The people around it made it clear it was his. He's right there...!

"Ah, Madame Riku!" came the deep sound of Dark. Dark and Krad made their way to her from near The Door, both wearing various degrees of happiness on their faces. She silently cursed to herself. Damn them! Damn them to hell! Krad was the first to bow, and Dark quickly followed.

"Madame Riku, was the performance enjoyable?" Said Krad, taking her hand and giving it a slight peck. She resisted the urge to jerk her hand away and smack them both out of her way.

"It was wonderful." She said, her eyes constantly going from Krad to the door. He raised an eyebrow. Dark, however, did not notice.

"And not one single refund! Monsieur Daisuke was a sauces, was he not? Let us go visit him!" Dark said cheerfully as he grabbed a thing of flowers from the nearest man's hand.

"Greedy..." muttered Krad, chuckling slightly.

"Ah...!" Riku said, gasping slightly. She quickly put her hands on the men's shoulders to stop them, and quickly made her way in front of them, turning to face the confused two as she stood in front of the door. "If you will excuse me, good sirs, but I would like to make this visit alone!" She said, grinning from ear to ear. Without waiting for a response, the girl turned the doorknob, and entered, shutting the door softly behind her.

The two looked at each other, slightly confused. Dark handed the flowers back to the man he took them from.

"Perhaps they know each other...?"

End of Act 2, Scene 7

Act 2, Scene 8

With's ears picked up. With a small 'kyuu!', the small creature hopped from Daisuke's embrace and under the table. Daisuke blinked, and bent down and crawled under the table, looking at With.

"With, why are you..."

"Little Dai!" came a voice. Who was i...wait! Daisuke knew that voice! He quickly started to stand, but smacked his head into the table.

"AIEE!" He said loudly, just short of screaming as his hands shot up to grasp the top of his throbbing head. He heard a feminine gasp, and heard the gentle tap of footsteps as she made her way over.

"Oh, Dai, I am so sorry!" The girl said, shock and horror in her voice. Daisuke, rubbing his head one last time, scooted out, and came face to face with Riku. His face immediately turned a bright red.

"Ri...Riku? I...um...dropped something?" He said sheepishly, glowing from a mixture of embarrassment and happiness. "But is it really you?" She simply grinned.

"That scarf. I still have it, you know. It's much dryer, now, even though it still reeks of the foolishness you rubbed off on it." She said playfully, tinging slightly herself at the memory. Daisuke grinned back.

"What did you expect me to do? You loved that scarf!"

"You can't swim."

"I forgot that until after I got the scarf." Her eyes shown, and she suddenly embraced him tightly, nuzzling her head into his shoulder.

"I...I've missed you, Daisuke. More then you know...more then I really every realized." She whispered. He blushed, and held her.

"I've missed you too..." He whispered slowly, as he himself started to really see how much he missed her as well. "More then I really ever realized..." Riku pulled away, blushing violently, and turned away.

"You performed marvelously tonight!" She said, turning around as her blush slowly faded. His blush, however, only increased.

"Well..." He started slowly. "Do you remember the stories? Of the angel of music? I've been visited by him. That's...why..." He said, his words slowing at the end. It must have sounded so stupid, he though, beating himself up for it. Riku only laughed.

"There's no doubt of it!" She grasped his hands, looking straight into his eyes. He had almost forgotten what a wonderful color they were, and how he could get lost... Her voice snapped him out of his daze. "Daisuke, you simply must join me for dinner! I'll have a my best horses and carriage ready in 5 minutes, so you need to get ready!" She said, tapping him on the nose.

"But...I...can't." He said slowly, turning his gaze from her to his wrist. He could barely make out the black color, the ribbon starting to feel more heavy. "The Angel...he's very...strict." He tugged at the sleeve, attempting to loosen the ribbon. Stop it.

Riku only laughed as she turned the door knob.

"Then I shall get you back early."

"But...!"

"Five minutes, Daisuke!" She said, and closed the door. Daisuke stared at the door for a minute, then put his head in his hands.

"But I can't..." He whispered into them. "My Angel..." He said, more loudly as if wishing him to come. "Angel..."

"INSOLENT GIRL!" came a deep, yet alluring voice from all around him. Daisuke's head shot up. "SLAVE OF FASHION! BASKING IN YOUR GLORY!" ranted the voice, anger dripping off his words. "IGNORANT FOOL! THIS BRAVE YOUNG WRENCH, BASKING IN MY TRIUMPH!"Daisuke stood up, his black-ribbon wrist clutching the fabric around his chest.

"Angel of Music, speak...I listen...!" He said, his voice starting at a whisper, then growing. "Stay by my side, guide me! Angel, my soul is weak, forgive me...Enter at last, master!" He said, looking around the room, his heart racing in his chest.

"...Look at your face in the mirror. I am there inside..." Came the voice again, yet this time, softer, but commanding. Daisuke obeyed. How could he not obey his angel? His heart longed to seek him out, and the alluring quality of his voice left no room for discussion. His steps echoed in the small room. The candles started to go out, one by one, as if a wind blew through the room. It send shivers down his spine, but he dared not stop walking. His angel was calling. "I am your angel of music...come to me, angel of music..." whispered the voice. He neared the mirror, and there he was. He stood a good hand taller then him, and he used the height to look down on him. He clothed himself mainly in black, save for a red vest under his black cloak and jacket, and a white undershirt under that. That, and his white mask. The careful shape of the mask mimicked the real contours of the half of the face it hid, the hole for the eye contorted to look as if the brow was arched in a glare. His skin was almost deathly pale, his thin lips holding little color. His light blue hair was slicked back, minus the few bangs that fell in front of his eyes. And there were his eyes. The thing that drew him. The ice blue depths that haunted his every step. He held out a black-gloved hand. Daisuke's heart raced and stood fixed on his eyes and his eyes alone, entranced.

There came a knock on the door.

"Dai? Daisuke?" The Angel's eyes did not waver.

"I am your angel of music...come to me, angel of music..." came his soft command again. Daisuke was lost in his eyes. The Angel reached out and grabbed his hand. Daisuke's heart shot up into his chest.

"Angel..." He muttered. The Angel looked at him, his lips parting in a rare smile. Riku began pounding on the door.

"Daisuke! Who's there? Daisuke!"

But Daisuke was not there anymore.

End of Act 2, Scene 8

**End of Act 2**

Ohhhh! Daisuke is now in the clutches of the Phantoooommm! We all know Satoshi would be a dead sexy Phantom, so he's going to be hard to resist, ne? Ohh, the possiblities!

Now, you know you love me. Or this fic. You can love it too. But if you love either one long time, then show your love! Review! Come on, let's shoot for 18 or so by the third chapter. If you do, I promise a new chapter up within a week (otherwise, I'll have it up within two)...we'd like that, wouldn't we. Yes, we would. 'Specially when it Satoshi and Daisuke, all alllooonnneeee with sexy sssiiinnngggiiiinnngggg...come on. Show support. Show me those reviews!

Kuku, out!


	3. Act 3: The Phantom of the Opera

Hey hey! It's that time again- time for UPDATES! You know you love me for it.

I'm really happy with the reviews I've been getting- I really like it when you guys get interested in the story and start suggesting thing that I might want to improve on. See, I'm very picky about my stuff. I'll go through and edit random chapters at any given time. Like, I'm going to go through and edit titles and such in the first chapter. But, I've had a few people wondering if I'm following the movie, musical, or book. The answer is neither. My story is different- think of it almost as a new chapter in the many works based on the original book. I am very familiar with both the movie and the musical (I saw the movie fifty BAJILLION times and own that soundtrack, I've read through the entire musical script and have downloaded the entire soundtrack to THAT), but I admit, I haven't read the book. I plan on doing so this summer when I'm not in school and the homework fairy can curse me no more.

One person commented that a lot of lines spoken in the movie are sung in the musical. I know this fact very well. I was humming the tune of the sung lines from the musical while they were spoken in the movie (music plays and sings Your chains are still mine, you belong to ME! snaps off random person's necklace and jumps into a hole in the floor). But since this is a different medium- a story, not a play nor a movie- it doesn't make much sense to me having them sing every other line. I'm going to have them sing only what seems normal and appropriate. Daisuke's a singer, so many of 'his' songs in the musical will be sung, just because he feels the music in him. He just takes tunes he knows from his father or the operas, and changes the words at his whim. Music is how he expresses himself. He feels a song somewhere, he's going to sing it. Why not? He's got the voice to make it all sound so very pretty. The Phantom (Satoshi) will also sing many of his songs, as, well, he's a freakin' musical genius. What guy WOULDN'T want to show off a dead-sexy voice? (Note: In this, Daisuke is a tenor (Think kinda Patrick Wilson (Raoul from the Movie). I luvles his voice! It was just so...GREAT! rabidly listens to All I Ask of You just to hear him sing As Webber put it, he's 'annoyingly perfect'. ), Satoshi is a bass with a VERY wide range(Think Gerald Butler(Phantom/Erik from the movie), but...um...more talented. O.o Don't get me wrong, he was perfect for what the producers had in mind for revamping the Phantom to make him more sexy, but he wasn't too very talented in my opinion. But his voice was still sexy. And I'm sorry, I've always seen the Phantom as a dark and creepy little person. Dark and creepy little people DO NOT SING FALSETTO! . Having the Phantom sing falsetto like a CERTAIN person (coughMichealCrawfordcoughcough), it's like Darth Vader talking like Carson from Queer Eye. It doesn't fit! A creepy murdering STALKER (that we all know and love!) does NOT SING FALSETTO!) As for Riku, she's a simple Patron. Singing is for the opera people. Riku will not be much of a singer in this. So, I know this will kill you as much as it kills me, but 'All I Ask of You' will not be sung. If the lyrics are included AT ALL, it will be spoken. ;.; I know. I'm upset too.

But I'm keeping with what I think should be written, and that's not in the plan. And do expect twists in this...I'm following the musical while it's convenient. Expect more deaths in this. Expect more mental anguish. Expect more horror. Expect things not to go as planned. Expect the rating to go up. Really, in about a chapter or two, I'm changing things up. But I'm still naming chapters after songs, if it KILLS me. Like it kinda does in this chapter. See, I have to split the whole Phantom of the Opera/Music of the Night thing into two chapters, and all the fun stuff happens AFTER Music of the Night...this chapter was HARD to write! ;.;

...The only thing that won't make it go up is sex scenes. I'm sorry, but I can't write a sex scene to save my soul. But two of the characters will get it on. It'll just be dealt with in a graceful way. Like, I'll just cut it off and let you guys figure out what comes next. O.o;;;;;;;

And another note- many of the characters in this will appear to be homophobic. I'm doing this, keeping in mind the time period. I am BIG on gay rights (if there is a battle for equality to be fought, I'm there, sucka!), so I did my big research project on sexual orientation. And around this time period, homosexuality was the love that dared not speak its name. At least it was in America and Britain. I'm not so positive about France, but I'm pretty sure the attitude was the same. So, keep that in mind. I have NOTHING against homosexuals. I'm straight an' all, but really, there's no reason tohate on 'em.I'm just keeping cultural facts in mind. O.o

Anyways, now for the suck-ups and thank yous! Mucho love goes to Akako (Yeah, I love that paring to! And I also hated how Christine went with Raoul, even though he had a voice to die for. o.o As for the final paring, you'll just have to wait! - Ah, I love having the power.), Molly-Chan (DANG, woman! You must really love me! That was a long and very entertaining review. That sucka made my day. XP Tell Dark I want to have his babies. XDDDD ), Luna (Will do, commander of the one-word review! salutes ), Lady Samurai (You'll just have to keep reading to see who ends up with who, now won'tcha?), Kute Anime Kitty (Seen the movie, read the script for a made-for-TV-movie and the actual musical, and seen the DN Angel anime, and read the books. I luvles both! And I'm honored you like the fanfiction so. Rock on!), Akira S. (Well, in Satoshi's defense, he's pissed. You know, some chick moving in on his territory. I'd yell too. O.o But thanks for liking teh story! ), mribec.DACB (Planning to read it over the summer!), trapt-t (Hey, I just love your informative reviews. Keeping me on my toes is very good! So, rock on! ), and Seena58 (Ohh, the DVD's coming out soon. Don't bother renting it. Trust me on this. BUY it. Buy it, and rabidly watch it the rest of your life! is what she plans to doing ...No, I am not in love with a man more then 3 times my age and that wears a mask. What are you talking about? shifty eyes)

**Angel of Music**

**Act 3- Phantom of the Opera**

Act 3, Scene 1

A water droplet slowly trickled down the dank stone walls. A mouse ran from one side of the wall to the other, squeaking. The temperature of the air seemed to change for the colder, but only from the humidity in the air. And in the middle of this dark passage walked two figures. A small smile enveloped the Phantom's face as he laced his gloved fingers around those of his small angel. Daisuke seemed still in a trance from the very sound of his alluring voice, following him with no questions, his red eyes seemingly lost in thought. He looked as if he was merely walking through a dream, his eyes holding no secrets or worries. And what a dream it was, the Phantom thought. Every moment with Daisuke made him feel exalted, made him feel...human. He felt trapped in the hell-like surroundings of his layer under the opera house, like an angel unjustly condemned to hell. The wickedness of his face, a face he could not help entrapped within the confines of a white piece of hell. The evil of the surroundings, the very nature of area seeped into his soul, contorting it and misshapening it to its hellish will. But Daisuke, Daisuke...he touched his scarred soul, his every grace of the finger healing.

He grabbed a torch off the wall with his free hand, making their way more clear for Daisuke to see. He, of course, needed it not- he could see just fine in the dark. But he knew Daisuke could not. He looked back at his ensnared little angel, and found him returning his gaze, his eyes vacant as if in a daydream. A smirk of sorts fell upon the Phantom's face, and he turned from Daisuke's gaze to face the dark passage way. He could see his influence, his control, written all over the boy. The Phantom tugged the boy on.

The tunnel opened up slightly, revealing a downward spiraling staircase. They stepped quickly, lightly down the staircase, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The Phantom felt a tug at his hand, as Daisuke had stopped moving. He looked over his shoulder to look at the boy. Daisuke's eyes were fixed firmly on the ground, staring off into space, his mouth moving slightly, as if he were talking, but sound refused to come out. The Phantom tightened his squeeze on his hand slightly as if to remind Daisuke of his presence. He carefully scanned over the blank look on his face, the soundless, slow motion of his lips.

"...Come." He said after finishing his study of Daisuke. Daisuke snapped his head up at the sound of his voice, his eyes alert for a second, and fell back into his dreamlike state, following the Phantom without question. The echos of their footsteps came once more, until the steps ended. The paved stone of the staircase continued for a few more feet, but was then met with dark expanse of water. The water was near black in color from its surroundings and the vile content of the water. It was far from uncommon to find rats within the stony passageways, and the bodies of the dead rats sometimes had found their way into the water to rot. Beached on the rocks was a boat of dark mahogany, its color near black in the dim light. Its sides were lined with carvings of a dark nature, each one more beautiful and detailed then the last. The craftsmanship on the boat was perfect, however the finish on the boat was far from wonderful. A small unlit lantern hung from the mouth of a gargoyle-looking creature at the head of the boat. The Phantom removed the opening and lit the candle inside. The Phantom re-grasped Daisuke's hand and helped him into the boat. After grabbing the paddle laying on the side of the wall, they were off.

End of Act 3, Scene 1

Act 3, Scene 2

Riku leaned against the Daisuke's dressing room door, sliding down the ground. Where could he have gone? One second, they were joking about the angel of music and about to go to dinner, and the next one, she's hearing some deep, creepy voice calling himself and apparently Daisuke the 'angel of music'. She didn't get it. Daisuke couldn't have possibly have been serious...could he? She shook her head. No. That wasn't possible. The angel of music was just part of a silly little story Daisuke's father told. The angel couldn't be real. She ran her fingers through part of her hair, messing up the carefully construction layers that had been put into place. What was going on here? That other voice...it was deep. Dark. Beckoning. It was obviously male. Could it have been a master of some sorts? Perhaps his father made provisions in his will to get him a tutor. But why was he calling to him from his dressing room. Could they be...? She shook her head violently. NO! That wasn't possible! It was scandalous! Wrong! Two men together? No! That could not be the case. He would never get involved in something as awful as THAT. But then where was Daisuke...?

"Is there something wrong, mademoiselle?" came an icy voice. Riku's heart skipped a beat and she nearly jumped. She looked up and saw Madame Emiko staring down at her, her gaze piercing through her. Her arms were lightly crossed, and her hair had come slightly undone from the busy action of that evening. Riku held her hand over her heart.

"Madame! You shocked me!" She took deep breaths to recover from the shock.

"Is there are problem, Mademoiselle de Chagny? The opera is many hours over." Madame Emiko's cold gaze did not change, her posture cold and forbidding. Riku shuddered slightly at the look she was given.

"I was simply waiting for Daisuke. We were going to leave for dinner. Is that a problem, Madame...?"

"Emiko. And yes, it is. Daisuke has used a back entrance within the dressing room to make an exit to the quarters of the dancers. He is quite tired, and wishes not to be disturbed." Madame Emiko answered curtly.

"But I told Daisuke that I had just gone to get the horses and..." Riku said, stuttering slightly over her words, still slightly shocked from the combination of Madame Emiko and the forbidding voice.

"Daisuke is not there." Madame Emiko said, and turned to leave.

"But there was a voice!" Riku burst out, before she could help herself. She clasped her hand over her mouth. She did not want to be thought insane by such a woman, and so shortly after her patronage of the opera house...

"The hour grows late, mademoiselle. You have had a long day, and must have been hearing things. You should find dinner and get yourself to your chambers for a good night's rest." She turned, and left. But there was something there. A flash of surprise in Madame Emiko's eyes. Riku clenched her fist. There was something going on, and she had a feeling Daisuke was in the middle of it. And she would find out what it was.

End of Act 3, Scene 2

Act 3, Scene 3

Daisuke absent-mindedly ran his finger along the inside of the boat. He knew this boat well- it had carried him many a time to the layer of his dark angel, his secret oasis in the desert of stone. This journey down into the deepest corner of the opera house always seemed like dream to Daisuke. Everything was surreal. The grey-black stone, the dark water, the boat, the Phantom...it was all like some dream. A dream which Daisuke did not know if to call a nightmare. He could feel the almost unearthly hold on his mind that the Phantom had. This dream, this nightmare...he felt no fear, though he know he could. He should. But he wasn't afraid. No, the darkness of his angel somehow gave him comfort and his voice wings to fly. He ran his finger along the boat again. Words formed in his mind. His mouth moved, as if wishing to say them, but he could not find the power of speak. He saw the Phantom look at him again out of the corner of his eyes, his form of curiosity lined on his features. Most people would have taken the look for anger, but Daisuke knew better. It seemed all the man seemed to know was anger and hate, and the looks seemed to have permanently taken hold on what little features one could see of his face. But his posture, and his eyes, they always sang Daisuke a different song. Songs...a tune popped into his head, and Daisuke smiled faintly at the memories that it brought. It was the very first tune that the Phantom had Daisuke sing, and he knew that the Phantom had composed it himself. He took his hands away from the sides of the boat, and they tightly gripped his pants. His mouth moved once more, but he had found his voice this time. Out from his mouth poured his thoughts and the Phantom's music. He sang quietly, not daring to look into his dark angel's face.

"In sleep he sang to me,

In dreams he came.

That voice which calls to me,

And speaks my name.

And do I dream again,

For now I find

The Phantom of the Opera is there

Inside my mind..."

Daisuke heard a rough chuckle from Phantom, the sound seeming almost strained, as if his vocal cords were not used to producing such a sound. He dared himself to look up, and found his eyes becoming locked with the light blue ones of the Phantom. His heart skipped a beat as the Phantom start to sing as well, his deep voice echoing off the walls.

"Sing once again with me,

A strange duet.

My power over you

Grows stronger yet.

And though you turn from me

To glance behind,

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside your mind..."

The Phantom's eyes held almost a cool smirk, and Daisuke recoiled slightly. Did his control bring him a sort of pleasure? He shuddered as words formed once again in his head, his eyes still locked with those of his angel's.

"Those who have seen your face

Draw back in fear.

I am the mask you wear..."

Daisuke seemed to have hit a sore spot. The Phantom's eyes grew angry, and he snapped his attention to the water ahead.

"It's ME they hear!" He sang, his voice dripping with anger. Daisuke shuddered again, and drew his eyes to the bottom of the boat. But, to his surprise, the Phantom kept singing, his eyes still locked to the front.

"My spirit and your voice

In one combined...

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside your mind..."

The Phantom was quiet for a while, and Daisuke took it as a sign of anger. He drew his arms around himself, and kept his eyes locked to the bottom of the boat. He didn't notice the sound of the oar falling into the boat, or see the Phantom carefully and swiftly turn around and kneel down to Daisuke's level. But he did notice the cold hand placed gently under his chin and lift his eyes up to meet with the Phantom's, their faces mere inches apart. Daisuke's heart thumped loudly in his chest at how close his angel was and at the strange emotion his eyes held. It was one Daisuke had not seen before...The Phantom opened his mouth and sang once more, his tone softer.

"In all your fantasies,

You always knew

That man and mystery..."

Daisuke cut him off.

"Are both in you...

And in this labyrinth,

Where night is blind,

The Phantom of the Opera is there,

Inside my mind..."

The Phantom's face smiled ever so slightly, and released Daisuke's chin, turning to pick up the oar. Daisuke could see ahead the metal bars that cut off a large section of the underground waterway from the rest, and there was land, in the sense that there was, once again, stone on which to step. Mirrors seemed to line the walls, picking up and reflecting the light from the dim candles throughout the layer. A heavy red curtain lined part of the wall, blocking off that area from view, and small arches of stone led into what must have been other rooms. Papers littered the floor. Small trinkets and masks were everywhere. Roses of red and near black colors were randomly thrown across the layer. And in the middle of it stood a large organ, its pipes finely polished and the wood kept at a shine.

"Sing." Came his sudden command. Daisuke's head snapped from the layer to the Phantom, who looked over his shoulder to glance at the boy. He returned his attention the metal barrier between them and land, unhitching a lock. "Sing, my angel. Sing for me." Daisuke swallowed, and nodded. He heard the echo of the metal bars. He used that as his note. He opened his mouth, and sang. He sang until his voice reached its limits, forcing him to nearly scream the last note. And he saw the Phantom smile.

"Good."

End of Act 3, Scene 3

Act 3, Scene 4

Madame Emiko sighed inwardly as she watched the retreating back of Riku reach the back door of the Opera House. That girl was too questioning, too nosy. She would interfere with little Daisuke and the Opera Ghost if she knew. And that could not be allowed to happen. Her footsteps echoed off the bare walls, the marble catching her every movement. She held her candle out in front of her, illuminating a small area in front of her. No. Daisuke must be left with the Opera Ghost. The man was a genius. An undeniable genius. And Daisuke, Daisuke's talent was still left untapped. She saw it in his eyes. The Ghost knew it. But it did not anger him. No, it did not anger him to see how little he had been able to unlock. She saw an excitement in his eyes she had not known him to express before. This child was beyond compare, a rare diamond among rocks. And there was only one who could bring out the true beauty and make him shine.

Riku must be kept out of the way.

Daisuke must be allowed to shine.

She reached her room, and blew out her candle.

End of Act 3, Scene 4

Act 3, Scene 5

He stepped onto the lands of his realm with a quick step, followed by the swish of his night-colored cloak. His eyes quickly darted across his layer, surveying all he saw. His face turned to look upon his angel, the boy's creamy white skin giving off a soft glow in the low light, his red eyes returning to their daze-like state. He extended his hand to the boy, who slowly took it, his eyes slowly reaching the Phantom's cold blue ones.

"Why...does it seem like a dream...?" He heard the boy ask quietly.

"The seat of sweet music's throne can seem that way." He whispered back, lacing his fingers between the boy's. His heart danced at the very touch, soared at his every look. He pulled him out of the boat. "Daisuke, I believe the Gods smiled when they imagined you..." He said, this time speaking so softly not even Daisuke could hear. The boy looked at him, his wide eyes pouring into his soul. His heart raced. He couldn't take the sweet torture anymore. He took a step toward Daisuke, his free hand moving to caress Daisuke's face. He could see the boy shudder at the touch, his eyes widening in surprise, then closing as he leaned his head into his hand.

"Angel..." He heard the boy mutter.

"It is not I who is the angel. You, you are the angel sent to sing for me." He leaned closer to Daisuke, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He breathed slightly on his ear. "And only for me. Your true voice can only be unlocked by me. The beauty of your voice can only be heard by me..."

"Only you..." Daisuke numbly repeated.

"Oh, you are music...beautiful music, and you are light to me. Light to your 'angel' in hell." He whispered in his ear, his thumb lightly tracing the outline of his chin. Daisuke leaned his head slightly toward the Phantom.

"Light..." He repeated once more.

"Sing. Sing only for me..." The monster whispered.

"Only...for you..." The angel replied.

End of Act 3, Scene 5

**End of Act 3**

Yeah, yeah, I know it's short. But, I had to split this whole scene into two parts, the Phantom of the Opera part, and the Music of the Night part. And I know I was ranting on how I'm not going to follow the musical to the T, but I'll be DAMNED if that song won't be in my fanfiction! Music of the Night and The Point of No Return are my favorites. They are GUARENTEED to be in here. And I really don't like this chapter. Really, I'm constantly revising these things. So, I think I'll start posting what chapters I revise in the new ones. Expect a new update in 2-3 weeks, complete with the revision of this chapter. Remember, if you LOVE ME or at least love SATOSHI/DAISUKE, you'll review. Otherwise, Daisuke might NOT fall for Satoshi.

Yes, that WAS a threat.

Kuku, out!


	4. Intermission 1: First Impressions

Hey guys. I know by now you were wondering 'Oh noes! Where is Kuria? I want my PotO/DNAngel fanfic, biatches! Rawg!'. I know. I want to write it. But I can't exactly. Would you like to know? I'm sure you do. It's because my laptop exploded, so now I can't write on it. I'm stuck on the family computer, and I don't exactly get a lot of time to write on it. Plus, I can't exactly save a shonen-ai fanfic on my computer without it most likely being found and read, and that would be rather awkward. O.o So, when do I get a new laptop?

…About the end of June, after I've gotten a job and worked my ass off for about a month. o.o

So, you guys are stuck without Angel of Music for a little while! I know, it tears me apart inside too. I wanna write. I got IDEAS.

But then I got an idea of how I could keep you guys somewhat happy/prevent large amounts of rotten food flying in my/laptop's direction! I'll write mini-chapters having NOTHING to do with the plot! Histories and stuff! And call them intermissions! They'll be wicked short, but hey! It's so they SPAN a long ways. (And so I can call notices like these chapters and not have the story taken off the site. o.o )

I know. I AM clever. Praise me, suckers. XP

Now, I won't do my usual suck-ups and thank yous, because those take TIME, and I want this little 'chapter' up tonight. I'll just cover everything in the next real chapter. But keep the love coming. Because my old threat still holds true. Who knows, you show me enough reviews, and some disaster might fall upon Riku! Depends if you are good little kiddies.

_**Intermission 1**_

****

"Papa? Papa!" A little redheaded boy tugged at a much larger man's pants, looking up at his 'papa' with large crimson eyes that held large amounts of confusion. "Papa, why are we here?"

"Hush, child." Was the only reply. His tone was not harsh, but instead his deep voice laughed with a fatherly love. The boy followed his father's gaze, which was fixed to a white house resting on the sand banks. A good 25 feet away from the house was the sea, the waves lapping up against the sand, the blues and greens of the water reflecting calmly in the bright sunlight. The sands of the beach seemed almost white, nearly untainted by man. The house itself was a sight- tall columns of strong white marble, the carvings in the arches above the door without a rival in beauty. The house seemed rather old, but it still radiated a calm, lovely feel. "Daisuke, this is where we shall be spending the summer."

"Why, Papa?" He asked, his small hands clutching his father's black pants.

"Because we needed a change of scenery."

"What about Mama?" He asked, his large eyes showing confusion and sadness. "Mama has been gone a long time…" The man stiffened slightly, closing his eyes tightly as he took in a sharp, painful breath. Anyone without the innocence of a child could tell the man was thinking of things he did not wish to think of, but Daisuke did not notice his father's troubles.

"Mama…" He said, his voice faltering slight. "Mama is on a trip."

"Then why did we not go?"

"Because where she went I cannot follow…" The man whispered to himself, and closed his eyes again. His eyes, unlike his son's, were chocolate in color, but his hair was a near copy of Daisuke's, except darker in its red color. The man stood tall and was built rather scrawny, but that did not mean the man was not handsome. He shook his head slightly, and ruffled the small boy's hair. "Do not trouble yourself with such things."

Daisuke simply blinked at his father as the man unfurled his fingers from the light grip he had on his pants so he could hold the small hand in his much larger one.

"Come, child. I wish for you to meet the family that will be here with us. The father was a close friend of mine, and this is his summer home. He knew we needed a time for which to relax, so he has been kind enough to let us stay. Behave."

"Yes, Papa." Daisuke followed closely behind his father as they made their way up to the house, swinging their hands back and forth ever so slightly as they walked. He looked behind them, seeing his small footprints next to his father's much larger one. "Papa!" He giggled. "Your feet are large!" His father laughed.

"Very observant of you! What else do you notice?"

"Your hands are also very large!"

"Such a clever boy," he said in between laughs. Their feet soon met wood as they climbed the steps to the door. His father raised a hand for which to knock, but someone had already thrown open the door and enveloped Daisuke's father in a hug. Daisuke let go of his father's hand and stood back, tilting his head slightly in confusion.

"NIWA! So good for you to have come!" said the man in a deep, booming voice. He was not a very tall man, coming up to around Daisuke's father's shoulders. His hair was jet-black, and his eyes a deep purple. He had a goatee, which framed his large, friendly smile. His suit was clean and cut well, as was his hair. Daisuke's father laughed and patted the man on the back.

"It's wonderful to see you as well!" He said, his eyes sparkling. "It has been far too long."

"Far too long indeed! Last time I saw you was on stage, and this little boy was a mere babe!" He turned to Daisuke, who ran behind his father, scared at the strange man. The man simply laughed. "I believe your boy is afraid of me!"

"Daisuke is simply shy." He grinned at Daisuke as he clutched his pant leg once again. He ruffled his hair, and turned to the strange, large man. "How is your family? It has been a while since I have seen little Riku."

As if on cue, a little girl walked from down the stairs. Her short locks bounced as she walked, her pale yellow dress swishing with her every step. A matching ribbon was tied around her neck, and her large eyes peered at her father as she stopped, looking at Daisuke curiously.

"Papi, who are these people?" She asked, tilting her head. Daisuke's father swept into a bow as Daisuke just stared at her.

"I am a friend of your father's. This is my boy, Daisuke. I believe he is the same age as you?" She clapped her hands together.

"Wonderful! We shall be friends then!"

"Friends?" Daisuke said, suddenly bursting out with a tone of shock. "But…you are a girl!" She blinked at him, studying him carefully.

"Are you saying we cannot be friends because I am a girl?"

"Of course! Girls are icky!" He said, hiding behind his father a bit more.

"Daisuke!" came his father's voice, amused. Riku drew herself up, lifted up her foot, took off her shoe, and chucked it at Daisuke. It hit him square on the head.

"WELL, I DON'T WANT TO BE FRIENDS WITH A SMELLY LITTLE BOY ANYWAYS!" She yelled, then promptly turned and charged back up the stairs while her father yelled after her to come and apologize.

Such was the start of a childhood romance.

_**End of Intermission 1**_

Now keep in mind that I wrote this in like 10 minutes just so the note didn't kill of the fanfiction. I know it's crappy. I'll fix it later. Shut up. .

Anyways, review if you love me! You know you do!


	5. Act 4: Music of the Night

...I really love you guys. Really, really, I do. I know you've had to put up with a long wait (Moving again, summer assignments, homework, and writer's block), and I am here to deliver...one full, big-ass chapter, and after this, I shall be uploading an intermission. I've decided to keep up with them because I REFUSE to do a story that isn't fully imersable. I want you to be able to understand the Phantom's motives. Why Daisuke fell for Riku. Why Riku would risk EVERYTHING to her name for Daisuke. Why Madame Emiko is so protective with Daisuke and chummy with Satoshi. All of it shall be revealed!

And also, I want you to know that FANWORKS are very much appreciated. I would love you forever. And maybe make up a very in-depth intermission for anyone who make me something, be it a one-shot, picture, or macaroni sculpture you made with your little cousin who was being a prat, so you shut him up with the amazing combo of glue and macaroni, and then you decided 'Hey! Kuku likes my fan art!', so you took a picture of that.

Oh, and I know Satoshi may seem weird here…I'm trying to write him as a cold, mad genius. Which is how I've always seen the Phantom. ;

Anyways, since I've had a complaint that these are too long (I'm sorry guys, I'm a very chatty little hobo, and I enjoy ranting on about things, but you didn't come for the rants of Kuku, you can for the fanfiction of Kuku. If you wanted rants, you'd annoy me on my views on Phantom/Love/Minority Rights/Cheese and watch the story unfold.

coughs I swear I'm done now…and I won't do the usual Suck-Ups and Thankys because I heard a NASTY little rumor that we're not supposed to do that anymore…FIRST, they take away the RP format, then the Choose Your Own Adventure, then the NC-17 rating, now we can't even thank our reviewers for reading out amateur little stories! I love giving little comments back to you guys…I mean, if you have low enough taste to like my writing, then you deserve a comment. XD

So, I'll think of how to get around this. Maybe email everyone back who wants a comment back? Ianno. You guys tell me what you think. Because you all deserve AMAZING props for sticking with this fic through its long pause.

Oh, and one more thing...here is where it gets real dark. If you don't like death, go away. We're kicking you out of our club, buddy.

**Angel of Music**

**Act 4- Music of the Night**

Act 4, Scene 1

A swish of a cloak sounded as the dark Angel took off his cloak and laid it to rest on the dark mahogany desk. His finger traced the skull carved into the side gently before turning his ice blue gaze to Daisuke. The boy was still in a bit of a daze…that wouldn't do for practice. But really, how could he practice now? He had Daisuke here…

"Daisuke…" He muttered, looking over the small boy, whose head turned in his direction, his lips drawing into a curious smile of sorts. "I've brought you here…to the scene of sweet music's throne. A kingdom of music…you have come here for one purpose alone…since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me to sing my music…And," He added, turning away from Daisuke's growingly curious gaze, "What more fitting for an angel of music then a kingdom of music…?" He whispered to where Daisuke couldn't here.

"Angel…" He heard Daisuke say, "Master. I am ready to learn what you have to teach."

"Teach…" To Daisuke's and to his own surprise, he laughed. It was not a cold laughter that rang through the catacombs under the opera house…no, it was harder to describe. It rang of mystery and a touch of bitter-sounded tones. "I have much to teach you. But music is not the only thing I have to teach. No…and they say the teacher learns from its students? I'm finding that to be true…but teach? Something different then music I will teach tonight." He turned around suddenly, facing Daisuke with an intense look. "A new song."

"A…new song?" repeated Daisuke. The Phantom saw his angel's face cross with confusion. His face split into a grin.

"Yes…all you have known is the music of the world above…the fools they are! They know nothing of the music of the night." His foot took a step toward Daisuke.

"Music of the night…?" repeated Daisuke once more. "What music is that?"

"MY music." came his simple reply.

Should he sing it?

Dare he sing it?

His face lost his smile, and took on an intent look.

Yes.

End of Act 4, Scene 1

Act 4, Scene 2

Madame Emiko's footsteps echoed off the marble walls very slightly…after all, cloth shoes made little sound. In all the excitement of the night, she had forgotten to check on her boys…and she knew how they got after a performance. Excited at a job well done, drunk on the spotlight's glow…the girls were not as bad, as they didn't quite work each other into a frenzy like the boys did…her attention would turn to them after she put her boys in line. A slight smile crossed her stern face…being childless, all the dancers were like her own. This job was gift of God, and she would not let it go.

Her robe over her nightdress made little movement as she made her way down the hall. But it did move as she suddenly stopped her advance on her rebellious boys, make a soft swish around her ankles.

She heard footsteps. Surely they were not that bold? Her boys were not stupid. They would not cross her like this.

"Who is it?" she said sternly as she held her candle out in front of her. A heavy chuckle met her ears as a reply.

"I'm not one of yer boys, if thaaat's what yer gettin' at!" came a slurred voice. He stumbled into view. Madame Emiko wrinkled her nose. That dirty drunk. Buquet. He had been on relatively good behavior, as the man was no fool when off the liquor…he heard the rumors of retirement and the opera house being passed on, and wished to make a good first impression when the time came. But the monsieurs were gone, the lights were off, and his liquor cabinet was open.

"What are you doing here at this hour?" she asked curtly, her candle held up with a steady hand. He tilted his head and swung his bottle to and fro, a drunk grin on his face.

"Lookin'."

"For what?"

"That god-damned Phantom."

The breath caught in her throat, but she showed no sign of it.

"The…Phantom? The Opera Ghost?"

"Yeah…know where he is? Ya know everythin' arrrrrouuund here." His drunk grin turned into an accusing smile that twitched occasionally.

To and fro, went his bottle.

To and fro.

She ignored his comment.

"Why do you look for the Opera Ghost? He would not take kindly to the ill-intent."

Not kindly at all, she'd thought.

You'd be killed.

"Because!" His face contorted into one of anger. The candlelight danced in a frenzy on his deeply furrowed brow, his eyes raging with drunken hate.

To and fro.

Smash.

The glass from his bottled fell into a dimly shining mass on the floor, catching all the light it could from the candle. The liquid dribbled down the wall. The neck of the bottle he crushed in his fist as it tightened, the blood starting to seep through the cracks in between his fingers. "He made a fool of me…"

"You seemed to have taken it well. Made it even into a joke." She noted. His look alarmed even her, and even though her every instinct told her to start stepping back, pride's call was stronger. She held her ground.

"To save face, you stupid woman! Those managers laugh 'bout me this night!"

The blood dripped from between his fingers onto the ground.

"What do you plan to do when you find the Opera Ghost? He would not take kindly to the intrusion."

You'd die.

Drip.

He threw back his head and laughed.

"Kill him!"

"You could not kill him, monsieur. This task of yours is foolish."

Drip.

"Oh, but he deserves to die!" His smile twitched once more, his words becoming less stupid as the pain from his hand brought him back into reality, if for only fleeting seconds. He dropped the broken neck of the bottle. There were still small shards in his open palm. Blood kept dripping.

Fool. Stupid, drunk fool.

"Think on it. Our finest horse disappears. He blackmails our good managers. Fear all around…and I take note Daisuke is not back. The boy must be dead. Or his plaything. He is corrupt enough in the eyes of the Almighty to be wicked enough to have his way with another male!" He grinned. "The boy sang almost unnaturally well tonight. Meybe he had that god-forsaken Phantom waiting for him." His grin grew. "What a scandal that would make! I'd get paid well to start tha rumors. Takeshi must not be happy…"

Drip.

You stupid fool.

"…If that is the case, I have my suspicions."

It's not the Angel of Music who needs to die.

"If ya could tell meh that, I would never call yooou stupid again!"

You do.

"Try the trap doors. How else would he get around so effortlessly? Go as far down as they go. Far down enough that they reach the water that is below this opera house. I have heard odd sounds around those doors…I fear he is under our very feet."

You shouldn't have threatened me by accusing me of withholding information.

You shouldn't have threatened Daisuke by mentioning his name.

You shouldn't have insulted the Angel.

Die.

Drip.

"I owe many thanks!" His grin turned wicked as he fingered his blade in his belt loop. He turned and left, crunching the glass under his feet. He froze and leaned on the wall for a few seconds, laughed at himself, and stumbled on. Madame Emiko's stony gaze held no emotion, no flicker as he left. Her arm was steady as the light from her candle allowed her to follow his shadow with her eyes until he turned the corner. Her lips barely moved as she whispered to his disappearing shadow.

"Those who speak of what they know often find silence is wise. Buquet, you should have held your tongue…now keep your hand at the level of your eyes."

She turned on her heel. The boys still needed her. Buquet would need no earthly desires soon, except for a priest for his funeral to pray for his dirty soul.

DIE.

End of Act 4, Scene 2

Act 4, Scene 3

Daisuke's eyes tried to focus in the low light of the Angel's haven. The candles that were scattered all around did offer illumination, but not enough to touch every small corner of this small, serene world. Here Daisuke felt at peace…the darkness surrounded him, enveloped him in an embraced, and sung him sweet songs conducted by his beloved Angel.

His eyes slowly found their way to the Angel. The low amounts of light barely illuminated the outline of his sweet, dark Guardian. The black of his outfit all melted into one seamless being, graceful and soothing. The head offered a startling contrast, a pale profile coming out of the dark mass, the light blue hair catching the light of the flickering candles, the piercing blue eyes shining through the dark holes in the mask. Most would have found the figure frightening, but Daisuke only saw beauty in it...Beauty. Comfort. Fear…?

Even in his daze, his mind pushed away his thought. He knew this man was a protector. A figure of perfection sent by his father to save him and to teach him. No reason to fear an Angel.

No reason to fear a father…

He could tell by the concentrated look on the Angel's face that he heard music. His eyes were nearly closed, almost glazed over, lost in his world. Daisuke looked deep into his eyes, and suddenly the Guardian's eyes snapped back into reality, focused on a goal, on him.

He peered into his soul and heard music too.

The Angel opened his mouth. The orchestra swelled. His spirit soared.

End of Act 4, Scene 3

Act 4, Scene 4

One, two, three, four.

Daisuke.

He heard the music, HIS music, swell to a sweet pitch in his head. He counted the beats in time with the music as he looked straight at his sweet angel. Who was looking straight back. He felt a shiver run down his spine before he began to sing…he feared his eyes sometimes. They seemed to look straight through him to his dirty soul.

He wasn't ready for that yet. If he touched his soul, he might become contaminated as well.

Contaminated.

Filthy.

Damned.

No!

He took a step toward Daisuke, hoping to shock him away from his eyes as he began to sing. Hear only my song, sweet angel. See only what I want you to see.

Love me…

"Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation…darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses…"

He took a step toward the boy, masking all emotion in his expression except what he wanted him to see, to feel, to share. His passion. His steps started to ring into the pattern of the beats of the music.

"Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor…grasp it, SENSE it, tremulous and tender. Turn your face away from the garish light of day! Turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light…and listen to the music of the night…"

The boy took a step himself, his powerful red eyes still peering deep into his. Forget my soul. Feel my love. Please…

"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams, turn your thoughts from the life you knew before! Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar…and you'll live as you've never lived before…"

The angel was right in front of him. His felt his arms tremble. His small size…his build…they would fit, wouldn't they? If he held him, their bodies would fit almost like pieces in a puzzle. He slowly reached up to Daisuke's face, and let his fingers to trace the outline of his face. His head seemed to cradle into his caress like a timed reaction. Like it was meant to happen. His other arm pulled the angel into an embrace. He didn't resist, but rested his head on his chest as if to listen to his very heart. Hear it. Have yours beat with mine. Our hearts should be one…

"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you…hear it, feel it, secretly posses you. Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind, in this darkness that you know you cannot fight! The darkness of the music of the night…let your mind start a journey to a strange new land. Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before…let your soul take you where you long to be! Only then…can you belong to me…"

He felt the small angel hold onto his vest. He took his spare hand and lifted Daisuke's face up to meet his in a gaze.

"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me…savor each sensation. Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write…the power of the music of the night…!"

The angel's grip grew weaker. He looked down. His knees were starting to give. Was he going to collapse…? He quickly made his hold more secure as Daisuke's legs gave out, and he collapsed on his chest. He studied the boy's face. His mass of red hair fell all over his face, his eyes closed in a peaceful, but tired fashion. It had been a very exhausting day…had he overworked him? He almost mentally kicked himself. Of course the boy was tired. He sang perfection tonight, laid out his musical soul for all the world to see. He carefully picked him up, and with a gentle motion, laid him on his bed. He caressed his face again, and placed a kiss on his ivory forehead.

"You alone can make my song take flight…help me make the music of the night…"

I love you, Daisuke…

End of Act 4 Scene 4

Act 4 Scene 5

Stupid woman! There are a million trap doors in this goddamned opera house. She should have told me which one was best.

Buquet unsuccessfully groped around the backstage for the right lever. Even in his drunken stupor, he knew which lever did what. And he thought he heard the best sounds of water in the one just near the back of the stage. He thought. Maybe it was just the liquid going to his head…

No, wasn't shaped like that.

NO, not that one either.

…Aha! He grinned wildly to himself as he fingered his knife in one hand, and the correct lever in the other.

God be on my side, because I go to kill a devil.

He pulled the lever.

End of Act 4 Scene 5

Act 4 Scene 6

Riku fiddled with her hair the entire way back to her new home in the city. Her family had owned it for a while, so it was not quite new, but that was besides the point…Daisuke. She finally finds the hole in her heart, and then she hears some man's voice in the dressing room. She shook her head, then resumed playing with her hair again. Just over-reacting. He must be a mentor. Or a tutor. Daisuke was such a pure man. She knew that as a child he prayed every morning for a wonderful day for everyone he knew, and at the end of the day he prayed in thanks for the day he had had. He must have prayed for his father every day since his death. Why would he be so sinful..?

Yes. Overreacting. He'd NEVER. Daisuke was too pure. Even though she heard such a strange obedience and joy in his voice. And such alluring tones in the other…

No. Overreacting. That's all. That's all…

She didn't stop fiddling with her hair until sleep finally took her.

End of Act 4, Scene 6

Act 4, Scene 7

The water sloshed about his body in an ill fashion, forbidding in color and putrid in smell. It came up to his boots, splashing him up to his chest. He knew the layout of the opera house rather well, and therefore knew a bit about its underground…he shouldn't be getting into deep water until a little ways ahead. Buquet's glance found the large gargoyles staring menacingly at him. The eyes almost took a life of their own, and in the little light given by his lantern, he could have sworn he saw their limbs move.

That sobered him up real quick.

He felt his blood quicken its journey through his veins as he quickened his pace. His head jerked around every so often. Was there something there? The hostile air of this place, it turns you insane…no wonder that boy-loving freak was so twisted.

Suddenly, he felt eyes burning holes into the back of his head. He gasped, and in the process of spinning around, dropped his lantern. The light died as suddenly as it was released, leaving only a near invisible trail of smoke winding in the air.

A cackled filled the air, reverberating off the walls, piercing him from every angle. His eyes wildly tried to adjust as they searched for the source.

Oh god, he thought in a sudden panic.

I'm going to die here.

"Buquet, you FOOL!" came the voice, dripping malice and sick entertainment. "You haven't heard the stories enough about me? Haven't twisted your lies far enough? Had to see the real thing? Seeking me out, were you?" He heard a splash as something landed in the water. Close.

Oh god, it was close. He could feel the water ripple towards him. He couldn't scream. His breath had left him. He couldn't move. His entire body, frozen to the spot. Fear swelled to in his chest to the point he thought he would choke on it.

Oh god.

Oh GOD.

The voice carried on, coming from all directions.

God, make him go away.

I'll take back my ill wishes, drinking, EVERYTHING.

Oh god.

I'm going to die…

"You're quite lucky. I'm in a bit of a good mood…your death won't be too painful. Normally, such intrusions on my domain leave me in a bit of a foul mood, but you caught me on a good day. I only think I'll strangle you. And leaving here alive is not an option for you. I'm afraid I don't want you sending those annoying police men to me. They don't make good house guests." the voice still spoke to him from all angles. His words still dripped his sick amusement. He could hear it in his voice. It was the phantom, the ghost…

His reaper.

Oh god.

He choked then gasped for air, clutching his throat. His whole body shook. He felt more ripples as the Phantom came closer. He suddenly felt himself fall over from the shock. His fear awaked his frozen limbs, screaming at him to move. He slipped as he tried to get up. The cruel laughter returned.

"Making a sport for me, eh? Very well. Pray to your god for help, Buquet! PRAY TO HIM NOW, YOU DAMNABLE FOOL!" His laughter rang once again as he scrambled to his feet. He kept slipping and falling, but he kept his eyes on the goal…the exit.

But he was too far. He knew that. He had to try. He couldn't just sit here.

I'll die. He's going to kill me.

Oh GOD…

Oh God…

No…please, God, no…

He heard the soft whistle of something flying through the air, and suddenly felt the sharp twine of rope around his neck. He tried to scream, to yell, ANYTHING, but choked instead. He clawed violently at the rope to no avail. He heard more laughter as the strong pull from the rope sent him crashing backwards. The water came up in what seemed like a torrent of a wave, coming up then crashing down on him. The putrid smell filled his nostrils, and he coughed from a mixture of lack of air and the water that had fallen into his mouth. He tried to take in a deep breath of air, but the water and rope burning into his skin stopped that. Searing pain raced through his neck, his lungs feeling like they were catching fire. He felt the eyes start to roll back into his head as his arms weakened their clawing at the rope. As he started to feel no more, he heard the last sounds he would ever here…

"My aim is still what it was! Give my regards to Lucifer, Buquet."

End Act 4, Scene 7

**End Act 4**

Yeah. I tried to make that last scene horrifying, but I don't think it turned out as planned… Oh well. I'll try to get better at being a better horror writer. I hope you guys don't mind how I wrote this chapter…I took a bit more of a different approach. I don't know if you can spot it…it's nothing big. But this was nice and long, right? And I still have an intermission to do…well, this will keep you guys entertained for at least a week, right? XP And I'll be moving the rating up…just because the death toll will get up. I want my Satoshi Phantom to be one sick, twisted bastard. Kinda like the original, but more a lover. Insane, but brilliant. And lonely. Hope ya'll liked the bit of Satoshi/Daisuke fluff.

Oh, and I've only read through this once, and it's 2 in the morning, so I'd expect changes later on. ;

Anyways, until later.

Kuku out!


	6. Intermission 2: The Eyes of a Child

Hey everyone! I know it's been a while- the Kuku has been rather busy! Also, I suffer from a terrible disease called WRITER'S BLOCK. I already know what I want to happen to who, even how I want it to end…I'm just trying to think how to best connect the dots. So, until I figure out what the hell I want the next chapter to do, you'll be stuck with intermissions!

Oh well. I was planning lots of these anyways!

Sorry that this one rather sucks…I wrote it kinda fast because I've been feeling bad about not writing for you guys. o.o

But I still hope you can still manage to enjoy it! Even though it's short. And rather sucky. Sorry guys! I still love you!

**Intermission 2**

Madame Emiko drew her shawl closer around her as she glanced up at the twinkling night sky. How deceiving, she thought bitterly, that the sky should sparkle as such, but those of us on earth freeze.

"Boy!" Madame Emiko barked, turning her pointed stare to a boy, no older then ten, which stood next to her. He snapped to attention as her shawl was drawn closer to her body. "The message you brought DID say they would arrive at midnight, correct?"

"Y…yes Madame! But the roads have been muddy as it rained a few days ago…and it has not been…very…sunny…" the boy trailed off, twisting his coat tails in his fists.

"Damn this weather and the rain…" Madame Emiko cursed under her visible breath. She had received the message that she was to receive a new student just today. A boy. This fact brought a ghost of a smile to her shivering form. Madame Emiko had to fight to get the amount of boys that she wished in dance. She wanted her male students to equal her female, as she saw as much beauty and grace in the male form as the female. Any boy that came to be placed under her wing, she took. No questions asked.

Her head snapped up as she heard the echoing sounds of wooden wheels on the stone ground.

"Thanks be to God, I thought they would never get here," She said, crossing her forehead. The boy looked up to her nervously and nodded. "Don't worry, boy. The carriage shall take you to an inn to rest, then take you back. We shan't keep you any longer." She said, looking down to the boy. He seemed relieved, hearing what he knew already coming from her, as if he was worried she'd force him to stay. The horse whinnied as the carriage stopped in front of the two. The boy eagerly hopped up to open the door for the carriage's passenger.

A boy stepped up to the carriage's door frame. Madame Emiko could not make out much of the boy's looks or build as he was bundled up head to toe. She could tell by his small stature he was either very young or very short. But what caught her sight were his eyes. The one feature that seemed not to be bundled up in a scarf, his eyes darted around, wide and afraid. But that wasn't all she saw in them. No, his deep red eyes seemed to hold a pure pain that ripped at the boy's soul. The breath nearly caught in the throat in surprise, but she caught herself before this happened, and drew herself up.

"Niwa, I presume?" She asked, and to the messenger boy's- and her- surprise, in a considerably soft tone. The boy slowly nodded his bundled-up head. Madame Emiko gestured to the towering triumph of architecture behind them with a note of pride. "Welcome to the Opera Populaire."

_Later, in Madame Emiko's Room_

Madame Emiko hummed to herself almost silently as she brushed her shoulder-length locks in front of the mirror. It had been late in hour by the time the Niwa boy had arrived, and so tired from his journey, she showed him only the way to his room and his new bed. He seemed almost grateful for a place to rest his head, and eagerly shed his layers of clothing for bed ones. She shuddered slightly remembering his pain filled eyes. She would be stupid not to know the boy's father…the God-sent Kosuke Niwa, whose violin playing could bring the hardest-hearted man to tears. And it was well known that Kosuke valued his son more then his own being, and would do everything and anything for him. She could see why- the boy appeared to be a darling. They must have been very close.

But she had no idea that they were so close as to warrant the all-consuming pain in the little boy's eyes.

Her brush paused in its downward motion as she shuddered once more.

"A draft in your room, madam?" came a somewhat-mocking voice from nowhere. She made no motion to look about- she already knew that if he wanted to be seen, he would make himself known.

"No. Just a memory that haunts me." She put the brush on her dresser, and began to braid it. "You never come to me unless there's a reason, Satoshi. Tell me, as I'd like to get to bed."

The voice chuckled.

"Perhaps you shouldn't stay out so late waiting for new arrivals."

"You know of the boy already?" Holding her braid in one hand, she used the other to reach for a crimson ribbon.

The voice scoffed.

"I know all that goes on in my opera house. You know this."

"I occasionally enjoy asking stupid questions."

"But I don't enjoy answering them. Who is the boy?"

"Daisuke Niwa, son of Kosuke Niwa. Surely you remember the time the master violinist visited your opera house?" She tied up the end of her braid and tossed it behind her. She had started to be careful to refer to the Opera Populaire as Satoshi's.

"Of course. He played masterfully, but…" The voice chuckled. "not as well as me."

"Of course not."

"So, has the boy any talent?"

"Are you thinking of taking on a student?"

"His linage interests me."

"He has been here for less then a day, Satoshi. I know nothing more then rumor…and rumor has it monsieur Kosuke was praising his boy as a genius vocalist."

She heard a sudden take of interest in his voice.

"Vocalist you say?"

"Yes. What do you plan to do with the boy?" She asked.

There was silence.

She looked around her, even though she knew she'd see nothing. He would have answered her by now…

He was gone.


	7. Act 5: Prima Donna

Again, you guys had to put up with me and my long periods of not writing-ness. You know I love you, right? 'Coz I do. I love you TTTTHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIIIISSSSS much! Really, this time I have no real good excuse besides writer's block and being a lazy-ass. But those random reviews I get really inspire me- you know, the ones people leave randomly a few weeks or so after you submit a new chapter. So, in case you're one of those people, and you think 'Geez! It's been months since Kuku has updated! So, it would be stupid to review now!', turn your thinking around, 'coz those are what inspire me.

…Not that the burst of reviews I get right after I upload every chapter is BAD. I love all my reviews. I love them TTTTHHHHHHHHHHHIIIIIIIIIISSSSSS much!

…And not that I'm trying to be a review whore and get as many as I can. I just love reading the input you guys have, be it short three to four word sentences, to the long rants of how amazing my story is, to the creative input and suggestions. I love 'em all! (Just remember, I love critiques on my work. I'm not perfect, so if something is bothering you about my writing, or I didn't flesh something out enough or if something doesn't make sense, please, tell me! In NO WAY are any of these chapters final- I edit them and upload the changes every now and then. )

And since I've heard nothing on the nasty little rumor I talked about last act, the Suck-Ups and Thankys are returning. SO, major props go out to PoisonApples09 (I'm so glad you like it! I hope you'll enjoy what I've got in store for you today!), Makurayami Ookami (I think it's interesting too, and it gets more crazy here. Hope you enjoy!), kuronotenshi7 (Amazing how you guys can make my day with just two words! I hope this is just as awesome!), Molly-Chan the AnimeGame Fan (I love you and your reviews, you know that, right? They're entertaining! You have a Deviant, right? I think I'm going to go stalk you now. XP), The Angel of Writing (I'm glad you like it! You're the one blessing me with the occasional ideas, right? XP Love your name!), inuyashalover1265 (Oh, I know what you mean! I'm a straight chick too, but I LOVE me some shonen-ai! I'm glad you like me little crossover idea here! Yay!), Lady Samurai (Well, that coupling seems to be a favorite…but who knows? Only me! I LOVE having the power, man!), Kasha (Some friend you are! Reviewing only chapter 4 and not my intermission? No Shonen Jump for you!), Seena58 (I hope to see you again…I'm sorry I've been taking so long! I hope you're still enjoying this story!), DarkenedDreamer (I'm so glad you like my style! I do try. -), Phantom Fox (I'm your first DN Angel fic? I'm so touched! You made my day with that. I'm so honored!), DevilintheAngel (I'm glad you like it!), Luna (Will do!), InsomniaOfTheReaper (You're right about the update time…I'm so bad with it. Sorry! Throw the tomatoes if you wish. I deserve them. o.o But I'm glad despite my slow-ass nature, you still enjoy! ), animegurl088 (Thanks!), PervyMonk (I might have bad things happen to Riku…I kinda foreshadow that…or do I? You won't know until the end! BWAHAHA!), and Misoka Mine (I'm so glad you like it! And thanks for pointing out my use of repetition- I've tried to tone it down this chapter and not overdo it again. I've noticed I tend to like repetition, but it's hard for me to tell if I overdo it, so please help me keep an eye on it! Thanks for your input on my writing!)

Sorry those were so long, but I had to make up for two chapters. o.o

Anyways, here's the next chapter! Review and give me inspiration!

Angel of Music

Act 5- Prima Donna

Act 5, Scene 1

Riku awoke with a shock, beads of sweat staining the back of her once pristine white nightgown. She grasped at the cloth of her nightgown that hung right over her heart in a sorry attempt to calm her racing heart. She breathed in and out sharply as if each breath pained her. She closed her eyes tightly as she tried to slow her breathing and calm herself down.

"Water…" she muttered to herself as she groped around her bedside table for her pitcher of water. She nearly knocked it over when she did find it, sending her heart racing once more. Instead of finding the glass she usually used to drink from the pitcher, she drunk straight from the pitcher's cool, porcelain sides. Calm DOWN, Riku, she mentally yelled at herself as a trickle of water made its way down her chin. She put the pitcher down with a thunk and whipped her chin clean. It was only a dream, you fool! Only a dream…

But if it was all merely a dream, why was every detail still so very vivid in her mind?

Why could she still taste the rancid water that had consumed her being on her lips?

Why could she still feel the dizzying pressure of the lack of air in her lungs?

Why did the demon's cruel, unnatural laughter still ringing in her ears?

Why did she still feel the demon's cold, blue eyes burn into her?

Why did her love just stand there, a dazed look on his face?

Why didn't Daisuke save her?

"Daisuke…" She muttered to a silent room that would not answer. She drew in her legs to her chest and rocked back and forth, too frightened to whisper anything else besides his name, too shocked to even cry. "Daisuke…"

End of Act 5, Scene 1

Act 5, Scene 2

Daisuke awoke to the smell of smoke stinging his nostrils. He shot up in his bed, and immediately regretted it- his head throbbed in pain as he did so. He held his head in one hand, and gripped the bedding in the other, the plush silk threads cool between his fingers.

Wait.

Silk?

His eyes widened as he realized that this was not his bed, nor the boy's dorm. Why was he…oh! The events of the night before came swimming back to his mind's eye. He winced, as the sudden surge of memory seemed to strengthen his budding headache. The Angel had sung to him…had embraced him…had ca…ca…caressed…him…Daisuke's cheeks flamed red in a mixture of pleasure and confusion. Why did he do that? He was the spirit of Father, right? So then why did he do that? And why did he enjoy it so much? Why did it feel so right? If he liked him, then it couldn't be Father…but why would the Angel lie to him? He had said…he was Father's angel. His mind was wheeling, confused by the many emotions and thoughts springing up in his mind, until he was brought back by a splash that echoed to his ears. He pulled back the black curtains that obscured his view, and was met with the sight of the Angel gazing at the water with an odd, scary sort of grin on his face as something smoldered in the water. It looked like a charred rope.

At the sound of the curtain's swish, he looked up at Daisuke, who involuntarily blushed.

"You're up." The Angel stated simply, a ghost of a smile crossing his lips.

"Y-yes." Daisuke answered, stuttering slightly with embarrassment.

"Your breakfast is on the beside table." The Angel said before turning to his piano. He didn't seem to mind the slosh of the water in his boots as he made his way up the steps to the piano. "When you're done, I'll take you back. No doubt that when you get back, you'll have plenty of work to keep you busy…" Daisuke saw a satisfied smirk cross his face, as if he had done something brilliant. Daisuke turned his gaze to his table- on it laid a plate with generous helpings of fruits, cooked eggs, and various sorts of breads. Pushing the question of how he got such things from his mind, he sat on the bed and pulled the plate onto his lap. He couldn't help but notice how fine a plate it was as he began to chew the food. The silver shone dimly in the light of the candles that illuminated the Angel's lair, the beautiful carvings of angels with various fruits almost taking on a life of their own. He also noticed how wonderful the food tasted, despite how fast he had been eating. He was hungry, as he had little to eat before he descended into the Angel's lair.

Daisuke's gaze was torn from his food and his eating slowed by the sound of the piano. This sound…it was unlike anything he had ever heard the Angel play. He felt compelled to move. Placing the plate and what was left on the bed, he rose to his feet and slowly moved toward the Angel. The Angel took little heed of him. His footsteps echoed slightly, but their sound was consumed by the music of the Angel's piano. This sound was unique, one that seemed to express so many emotions in a chaotic, beautiful sound. It was if his fingers wove a magic too wonderful and horrible to be fully appreciated. What kind of creature of heaven or earth could produce such a sound, Daisuke wondered to himself. What did he hide behind that mask…?

The piano playing stopped. The Angel spoke, but did not turn to face Daisuke.

"It isn't finished, this piece I play. But it will be our triumph. This piece…this piece only I can put into music and only you can sing." He flipped a page in the score and wrote something down with his black and crimson quill pen then placed the pen back into the murky black ink.

"What do you call it?" Daisuke found himself asking.

"Don Juan Triumphant."

"What is it about?"

"Anger. Betrayal." The Angel rose from his seat and faced Daisuke, an odd emotion he couldn't quite read on his face. "Love." This took Daisuke aback for some reason, that simple word evoking such power when coming from his lips. He felt his face flush slightly. "Passion." The Angel said, barely above a whisper, his voice intense. Daisuke stood before the Angel now, a small gap between them. The Angel closed it. Daisuke flush deepened. He looked into the Angel's eyes. They seemed to suck him in, to hold him and not let go. And he wasn't sure he wanted to be released from their grasp. "You heard it, didn't you?" The Angel whispered.

"Heard what?" Daisuke answered numbly.

"The passion of the music. A passion only you can communicate, Daisuke." The Angel said quietly. Daisuke merely nodded. He could hear it. It was passionate music. It was…the music of the Angel's soul.

"How can…how can your soul sound like that?" Daisuke asked softly. The Angel's eyes held a shocked look for a second, then recovered his usual quality. But he still saw it. It was unmistakable. Daisuke pressed on with renewed strength, that one flash in his eyes amplifying his will. His hand rose to the Angel's face, his fingers gently touched his mask. "What secrets do you hide, my mysterious Angel…?" Daisuke whispered. The Angel closed his eyes as if in bliss, not noticing that Daisuke's fingers had the edges of his mask. In a quick movement, Daisuke ripped off the mask. In a blur of red and sickly yellows and pale whites and blacks, the Angel threw Daisuke away from him and covered his face before he got a good look.

"YOU FOOL!" He thundered, his voice echoing throughout his lair, making his voice seem ten times louder then it should have. "YOU DAMNABLE FOOL! WHY DO YOU WISH TO LOOK UPON THE FACE OF A MONSTER?" He stumbled to the ground, his back turned to Daisuke, groping for where Daisuke had dropped his mask. Daisuke fell on his back, making no move to pull himself back up. He was in shock.

"My…my Angel, I only wished to see what you hide…" He said quietly, fear making his voice tremble.

"What I hide?" The Angel asked, his voice turning deathly silent. It sent shivers down Daisuke's spine. "What I hide is too cruel for your eyes to see. Do not wish to taint your innocence with the horrors of this monster." Monster, Daisuke thought. How could his Angel be a monster? His soul…his soul was a beautiful thing, the very sound of it making his own soul soar.

"You are no monster, you are my Angel…" Daisuke said, his voice rising. "And I think I deserve to know what you hide! You know of me, yet I know nothing of my teacher!" He stood on his feet and looked down at the crouched form that was the Angel. He started to take steps toward him. "I need to know. Why do you hide? Why has life lead you to live down here?" As he reached the black form of the Angel, he sat on his knees and placed a hand on his shoulder. "I need to know why you seem to shoulder so many burdens all by yourself. I know you do. I can hear it in your music…" The Angel said nothing, but rose up. "My Angel…" Daisuke murmured. The Angel said nothing, but turned around. What faced him was a sight that he would never forget.

Where the mask had been was not a face. Where the skin should have been a luminous pale color like the rest of his skin, was a mismatch of charred reds, sickly yellows, and raw pinks. These colors were thrown together over an area that was not smooth like a face should be, but rocky, as layers of skin jettisoned out and caved back in. Over his eyes was a lump of raw-colored skin that nearly drooped over his eyes, yet stopped just so that when the mask was worn his eye could be seen clearly. It was a horrible, ugly sight that neither God nor Lucifer could endure. And neither could Daisuke. He fainted.

End of Act 5, Scene 2

Act 5, Scene 3

With awoke in his bed in the boy's dorm as Daiki. With a little 'kyuu' he could not hold back, he raised his sleepy head and surveyed the scene. The other boys were still fast asleep, as the excitement of the opera had tired them all. But where was Daisuke? His eyes widened as his mind suddenly lurched out of its sleepy stupor. It was the voice again! The voice that came to sing at Daisuke through the walls, the one that would make him disappear for hours without an explanation. With had never seen the voice, the voice Daisuke claimed was his Angel of Music, but he knew it was what took him. He also knew all this he was not supposed to know, but Daisuke was all With had, and he hated not knowing where he was for hours at a time while Madame Emiko told him merely not to worry about his whereabouts. But he was actually in the room this time- what had happened? Why had he suddenly fallen asleep at such a crucial moment? And why was he now here in the boy's dorm? He had never left the safety of the desk.

"Daisuki…" With whispered sadly, flopping back onto his pillow and staring at the ceiling. Why must Daisuke be surrounded with a fog he could not pierce? Was it not his duty to watch over the boy and keep him safe? To at least be his confident and friend? At all this he failed. "What should I do?" It would be useless to pursue the matter with Madame Emiko. If she was even up, she would merely dodge his questions. And the doors to the rooms in which he would here the voice would always be locked. But…With started to get up, trying not to make much noise. It was worth a shot, wasn't it? Perhaps this one time the voice would be careless. With carefully opened the door the boy's room and slipped out, still being as silent as possible. Perhaps this one time he would catch an opening.

End of Act 5, Scene 3

Act 5, Scene 4

Dark was nearly skipping through the halls of the opera house, eliciting curses from the maids that were polishing the floors. His unruly deep purple hair bounced in front of his eyes. He brushed it out of his eyes as he paused to read the crumpled up paper in his hand one more time. In bold letters across the front page were the words 'TAKESHI DISAPPEARS ON OPENING NIGHT OF HANNIBAL, CHOURS BOY NIWA TRIUMPHS'. Ah, what beautiful words to his eyes! If only he could kiss the writer! He couldn't have written better publicity if he tried! The mystery, the scandal, the ticket prices of the Opera Populaire, he could feel them all rise at once! These sorts of headlines, this sort of gossip filled seats and his pocket book. Ah, the joy!

"Dark!" came the voice that he immediately recognized as Krad. He spun the opposite direction to face the worried face of his cleanly-kept partner.

"Krad, my boy, why so glum? Have you not seen the headlines? We're front page, Krad, front page!" He grinned and spread the crumpled page for him to see. Krad pulled the page down to look at Dark, his expression unchanged.

"Are you CONVIENTLY forgetting Takeshi will be livid with the fact we replaced him last night and most likely refuse to sing at tonight's opening of Il Muto and our little 'triumph' is missing?" Krad said, exasperated with Dark's loose attitude.

"A strange thing, opening one opera after another! Not only do we have ghosts, but we keep two shows going at the same time!" Dark said with a laugh. However, this laugh was hollow. That ghost, that phantom…his right hand shifted to his pocket and crunched the note inside. Just a stupid little prank.

"You know it keeps the audiences entertained, having two operas running at the same time. It is hard on the cast, but it sets us apart." Krad said with the tone of one who has had to explain this fact far more then once. "And," he added, a slight tone of discomfort in his voice, "I wonder if the ghost is worth more then just our ridicule…" Dark's head snapped to attention and his voice took on a defensive tone.

"It is nothing more then a prank they pull on us. Nothing. MORE." Krad looked at him, his eyes falling to his coat pocket.

"Then…" he said slowly, pulling out a note of a pale, sickly yellow color with a blood-red seal broken, the skull of the seal split ominously down the middle. "Why have I received one of these?" Dark's hand crushed the paper in his pocket. Stupid joke.

"Means nothing…" He muttered. Krad ignored him, and opened the note, clearing his voice.

"Monsieur Krad- I wish to congratulate you and Monsieur Dark on your fine choice of allowing the young and talented Daisuke Niwa to sing in the place of Monsieur Takeshi in last night's performance of Hannibal. Surly you shall wish your run of triumphant openings to continue? If so, Daisuke Niwa must sing tonight, and place the Monsieur Takeshi in the role of the pageboy. The silent role. This makes my casting quite obviously the ideal one. If my request is not met, then a curse shall befall the opera house. Your friend, O.G." Krad folded up the note and placed it back in his pocket, looking expectantly at Dark. Dark looked away, and placed his hand in his pocket, pulling out the paper in his pocket. Paper of a pale, sickly yellow color with a blood-red seal.

"Monsieur Dark," He began to slowly read, "I am afraid I must remind you that my dues have not yet been paid, as it appears Monsieur Kousuke saw it fit to leave this month's due in your care. Please leave my dues in the care of Madame Emiko as she watches over Box Five tonight. And remember, my box MUST be left empty for my use. Your friend, O.G." Dark crumpled the paper, increasing its many wrinkles. "What kind of fool does this O.G. take us for? Opera Ghost? Do we look like we would fall for such a joke?" He muttered darkly, tossing the paper onto the steps, eliciting more curses from the cleaning maids.

Krad never got the chance to answer. As he opened his mouth, the doors swung open as a frantic Riku de Changy burst into the room. She had her skirts gathered up in her hands as she quickly made her way up to the managers. While she was kept up in her usual finery and not a hair was out of place, she held about her the air of a woman in distress.

"Gentlemen!" she called, halting at the stairs. "Please tell me this note is a cruel joke of yours!" Her eyes seemed to plead with them as she lifted her left hand, in which she carried a note of a pale, sickly yellow the men were starting to wish to never see again.

"You too?" asked Dark darkly. Her eyes widened.

"I'm not the only one?" she asked quietly. Krad took out his own note.

"No, Madame. I'm afraid not."

"But…" she trailed off. "But…then who is telling me to never see Daisuke again? Why is our friendship such a problem for this Opera Ghost character?" she asked, her voice gaining strength in her confusion and worry.

"Madame, please do not ask us how a madman's mind works!" Dark exclaimed. "WE have no problem in your friendship with young Niwa as long as it does not affect his performance!" Riku's face seemed to have lightened slightly.

"Then, may I see him? Where is he?" she asked. Dark and Krad looked at each other, and Krad turned to face her with an uneasy look. Her heart sank.

"You know no more then we do. He's missing."

"Missing?" she asked quietly. But this comment was lost in the sound of the door swinging open in a loud manner for the second time that day, but instead of a lady bursting into a room, it was a gentleman. A very angry gentleman waving the same paper that Dark had been dancing with a few blissfully ignorant minutes before. And under the paper, hidden underneath the folds of the news and Takeshi's large thumb was a small piece of paper of the pale, sickly yellow variety.

"MONSEIURS!" thundered the form of the dethroned triumph of the Opera Populaire, Takeshi. "I DEMAND YOU EXPLAIN THESE!"

"Monsieur Takeshi," Krad began, trying to soothe the angry tenor, "You left us with no choice! The show had to go on!"

"OF COURSE I KNOW THAT! THAT IS WHY I ALWAYS WAIT OUTSIDE BEFORE THE PERFORMANCE IN MY CARRIAGE! DO YOU NOT KNOW THESE THINGS?" He thundered on. "AND WHAT IS WITH THIS NOTE YOU SEND ME, TELLING ME THAT…THAT BOY WILL BE SINGING IN MY PLACE TONIGHT!"

"We have sent no such note!" Dark snapped, getting clearly tired of all the accusations and yellow slips of paper.

"Then his friends have been PLOTTING and plan to scare me with this little note!" He said arrogantly, casting a nasty glance at Riku, who glared at him, disliking his accusing nature. "I have half a mind to leave!"

"Wouldn't miss you," muttered Riku under her breath, crossing her arms. Takeshi thankfully didn't hear.

"Monsieur Takeshi, we will not respond to threats, be they from a poor, deranged man who has it in his head that he's a ghost or from young Niwa's 'friends'." Krad said soothingly. He placed his arm around Takeshi's shoulders, who was still in a huff and was not pacified by Krad's words. Krad made a large sweeping motion with his hand not comfortingly draped on Takeshi's shoulders. "So, sing tonight. Let the whole world see the Opera Populaire's angel of music take flight once more!"

Riku's eye's snapped in Krad's direction the minute he uttered the words 'angel of music', and heard nothing else he said.

"Angel of music?" Riku muttered, biting her bottom lip. She saw not the inside of the Opera Populaire before her, but Daisuke's nervous face, his eyes continuously glancing at one rose out of the seeming millions of flowers in his room, the one with the black ribbon tied to its stem, his lips slowly forming the words 'Do you remember the stories? Of the Angel of Music? I've been visited by him,'. She shook her head. No, this Takeshi couldn't be Daisuke's angel. His voice was far different then the voice she heard in the dressing room, the voice that laughed at her in her dreams. But, then who was…?

Riku was brought back to reality by Takeshi leaving in the same form he came in, but this hustle was not in the direction of the front door, but in the direction of the back stage, and this bustle was not one of anger, but one coming out of a need for speed from a still rather ticked opera star.

"Thank god you're better at calming people's nerves, Krad!" Dark said with a grin, giving his other half a good, hearty slap on the back. From the sound of the impact, it would have made a lesser man wince, but Krad didn't bat an eye, obviously used to it.

"You handle the money, I handle the people. It's how we work." Krad replied, and the two followed Takeshi backstage.

Riku blinked.

"Wait," she muttered, "aren't we still worried about Daisuke?"

End of Act 5, Scene 4

Act 5, Scene 5

With leaned on the mirror in Daisuke's dressing room, closing his eyes tightly and sliding down the slick glass to sit at its base. Daisuke wasn't here. He wasn't ANYWHERE. He looked under everything, tapped on every wall to see if any part was hollow, looked for creases in the floor, tried his best to pull the large pieces of furniture from the walls, nothing! He couldn't find how he kept disappearing, or find where he was. He pulled his knees up to his chin and buried his face in them. He really wished his human form had larger ears, because he couldn't cover his face with those stupid little stubs on the side of his face. Only his hair could do that, and he didn't have as much as he would have liked at the moment.

"Kyuu…" He muttered without thinking, trying his best not to cry. And it was hard. He felt like a failure. He failed at being a friend, at watching out for him, at protecting him! And now he was missing.

Stand up, he thought. Get out of his room. You'll only become more and more upset, then you'll start crying, and if your eyes are red, you'll loose face with the other boys. He complied with his thoughts, and blankly moved up and out of the room, his face blank, his body on autopilot. The word 'failure!' echoed through his head continuously.

That is, until he got to the boy's dorm and saw Daisuke sleeping peacefully on his bed.

Despite his relief, he couldn't bring himself to wake the boy.

He softly closed the door behind him, turned into his usual form, and hid under his own bed to let out all the tears he had held in.

His eyes tended to be less red that way.

End of Act 5, Scene 5

Act 5, Scene 6

Word soon raced through the back stage of the opera house that Daisuke had been found, was sleeping, and would take part in tonight's performance. When Takeshi heard, he acted like he did not care, but inside he was seething. The boy was a favorite of the patron (Not like this idea threatened him, of course!), a favorite of the dance teacher (Not that she mattered, of course!), and a favorite of some deranged lunatic thinking he was the undead who had THE NERVE to drop a backdrop on him (His opinion to whether the brat was his favorite to him should not even be in question, thank you very much!). And even though he was not in the least bit threatened by these people, it got under his skin that there were people that simply could not recognize his musical genius! He was flawless to anyone who could see, and people who were blind could simply go die in the street somewhere for all he cared.

So, not only was he irked by the fact that the Niwa brat hadn't turned up dead in some river bank somewhere, but by the fact he wasn't able to immediately get into his dressing room because they were having trouble moving all the brat boy's flowers out. AND, to add insult to injury, some of the stage hands had been referring to the dressing room as 'Niwa's Room' while they were moving the flowers!

Needless to say, they were reprimanded firmly. So firmly, that the animal hands had complained his scolding had spooked the animals all the way back in the stables.

Takeshi took to pacing and ranting outside the dressing room. Were they moving slowly on PURPOSE? Didn't they realize that the curtain was going to open soon? It took him a LONG time to get into make-up (The stupid women HARDLY knew what they were doing! Of course he informed them of their poor job and made them do it until it was perfect!) and to get into costume! Did they NOT want him to grace them with his presence? He snorted.

"Blind fools! Blind, ignorant fools!" He exclaimed, seeming to talk to no one and eliciting stares from the new people among the staff and those just not used to his angry outbursts.

"Two hours, everyone! Everything should be ready soon!" yelled a stage hand clutching a rolled-up script. Takeshi stomped his foot and glared daggers at those moving out the flowers and readying his place in the dressing room.

"You HEAR THAT? TWO HOURS. JUST TWO! I NEED IN THERE NOW!"

"Um…Monsieur…" said one timidly, taking a step toward the angry opera star.

"DID YOU NOT HEAR ME, YOU DEAF AND DUMB FOOL? TWO HOURS! I NEED IN THERE NOW!" He screeched.

"It's ready, monsieur…," the boy said, almost speaking at a whisper as he bit his bottom lip. The poor child was not used to being yelled at so. Without saying another word, Takeshi stormed into his dressing room, calling for the incompetent make-up women, slamming the door behind him. After all, the boy was too timid, and would not have gotten yelled at if he had said his point earlier. Of course he need not to apologize!

Takeshi looked around the dressing room and a ghost of an approving look reached his face, for there was no sign that the brat had been here. His large mirror that adorned almost the entire left wall had not a smudge on it. The gold lining of his mirror shone brilliantly. The dark wood of the room's furniture (for dark wood would simply not do! His hair was dark, and the dark wood would not allow him to stand out as well in the room, obviously!) was dusted and shone with a soft glow, down to the last carving carefully etched on the furniture's exterior. The walls were clean of any marks, and no flower petals were anywhere in sight. The room's smell was the only thing wrong- it smelled softly of the flowers that had resided there overnight. That, and there was something odd that hung in it that he could not quite place. It was almost a wet smell, it was definitely dank, and it became every so slightly stronger as he walked toward his wardrobe. The smell was not the only odd thing about the room, for he just noticed a small note that hung off his wardrobe by a small ribbon.

A small, black ribbon.

A note whose paper was a pale, sickly yellow color.

A note which read

'Monsieur Takeshi-

My greatest congratulations on your upcoming performance tonight, which I am sure will be your greatest. As a token of my wishes of luck to you, I have left you a present which will undoubtedly leave a pleasant scent on your costumes tonight. Perhaps this scent will remind you of my wishes and allow you to sing as best as you can!

Yours Always,

Your Dearest Fan'

He crumpled the note, and scoffed. He was no fool! He knew this paper! It was the BRAT'S friends at work! Well, he thought as he threw the note to the floor, it is a mere scent! Nothing like that could possibly throw me off, no matter how putrid! Or, do they wish for me to fear to open this wardrobe because of what might possibly be in it, forbid anyone else to do so, thus take away my costumes and ruin the show? A determined look came over his features and his eyes grew fearless.

That's just what they want! I do not fear them! I take your challenge, blind and deaf fools!

He threw open the wardrobe door.

And out fell a someone or something- Takeshi couldn't tell from the beginning shock of having a heavy force fall on top of him. The smell was consuming- it was wet, heavy, and dank, reminding him of what the water below the opera house must smell like if he were to ever smell it. He gagged, and struggled to push the heavy weight off him. But this was not easy, as the weight was slick from what must have been water, was slightly mushy and thus was hard to get a hold of to push off, and was sickeningly cold to the touch. Sort of felt like skin if one sat in a ice-cold bath for a long, long time. And there was this sopping-wet thing on his face that felt a lot like hair. And attached to that hair-like substance was something like…a…face…

His eyes widened in only a way eyes can widen when they are consumed by pure terror.

His mouth opened and shook in only a way a mouth would when a body could not find their voice from pure disgust.

But his voice did not stay hidden for long.

Years later, it was still talked about how amazingly well Takeshi could project his voice, and there was no better example of this then the time he found Buquet's body in his wardrobe before the opening of Il Muto.

Sadly enough, no other examples of his amazing projection could be found other then this, because Takeshi unfortunately had caused his dresser to fall on top of him while scrambling to get out of his dressing room, and the glass of the mirror on that had shattered, piercing and slicing him in inconvenient places, causing his death. There was much talk afterward that Takeshi didn't have the strength, even in such terror, to cause a dresser to fall on top of him if he crashed into it. And it was also said the force of the glass should not have pierced him in such ways because there should not have been enough force. But this was never looked into, for who takes seriously the talk of the silly staff of an opera house?

End of Act 5, Scene 6

End of Act 5

So. I don't know about you, but Takeshi/Carlotta was annoying and didn't serve any good points past the Il Muto bit, so I killed him off. I know his death was sorta lame, but come on! How many ways can you die in a dressing room? I guess if you really thought about it, there could be more creative/cooler ways to die, but his death wasn't really important like Buquet, who was only important 'coz he was the first kill. Plus, I wanted to get the ending OVER WITH and update. o.o And in case anyone didn't pick up on it, Satoshi had a hand in helping the dresser over. And where the glass landed. How he did this?

Hell, I don't know. He's just SKILLED like that. Did he use his special passageways to help the dresser over? Did he use amazing ninja-like speed to make sure that Takeshi's throat was slit? WE DON'T KNOW. That's what I love about having such a genius of a character like the Phantom/Satoshi. You can explain stuff like this away with a simple 'He's just skilled like that'. XD

Anyways, I'll have my friend Amanda (maybe Lara if I can get her to read my fic. ) annoy the hell out of me until I make good uploading speed on the rest of the acts/intermissions. (And if you personally want to make sure, my email that I check most often is Feel free to send me an email with the title 'STOP BEING A LAZY-ASS! I WANT FANFICTION!' if you feel it. 'Coz unless people hold me to it, I tend to forget to do stuff. o.o But, I'll be trying to stop being so lazy on my own. So, please don't loose faith in me! I'll be trying my best, everyone!


	8. Intermission 3: First Love

Okay, okay. I know you guys are going to want to MURDER me for this next chapter, as it's the beginnings of Riku and Daisuke's romantic past. I know most of you are Daisuke and Satoshi fans and are eagerly awaiting the day I kill her off. If I even DO kill her off ('coz we all know that if she doesn't end up with Daisuke, I'm going to kill her off. I've been a little kill-happy lately. O.o;). Who knows with me? I'm like a firestorm of unpredictability! It's like WOOSH with me, man! WOOSH!

But you all know it has to be done. 'Coz, fact is, Riku and Daisuke WERE in love at one point, and you're just going to have to deal with that. Sorry, guys! Plus, wouldn't it just be brilliant if, with this (and the next Act, which is 'All I Ask of You') I put you on the fence? If I made you think 'I love Satoshi and Daisuke together, but Riku is such a sweet and strong girl and Daisuke deserves a person not living underground with a talent for killing people'? I'd love that. 'Coz I want you emotionally involved with ALL the characters! All! Riku included. You have to admit, your shonen-ai obsession aside, that Riku IS a sweet girl (though I think her sister is ANNOYING AS HELL. I think I'll kill her off for no reason soon.). So give her a chance! Let's see some Riku love!

...Okay, now that you all are ready to kill me, time for the Suck-Ups and Thankys! Mucho props go out to PoisonApples09 (Aww! You are so sweet! I should be having to pay you for saying such nice things. So, instead, I'll try my best to write well!), Angel Born of Darkness (I think so too. o.o), Makurayami Ookami (And shine Daisuke will!), Misoka Mine (XD That's kind of a funny image. Someone just sitting at a computer, suddenly laughing diabolically, then shutting up just as suddenly as they started. And Daisuke's reason for fainting will be explained in later inner monologes, so don't worry. It'll all work out. And thank you for taking the time to critique my work and find stuff wrong with it! I really enjoy your input.), Phantom Fox (Of course it'll leave a mess for the other peoples! Takeshi's throat got cut and his body smashed. That's going to be messy. XP …Yes, I do kinda have a grim sense of humor.), Mad-Vixxen (Awww, you are so sweet! I'm so glad you enjoy my work so much! And the notes you send are SUCH a big help. I tend to forget about things unless people keep on my case. I'm lazy. ; So, thanks!), Molly-Chan the AnimeGame Fan (Well, Takeshi was outta character 'coz I had to have people fill roles. o.o; And I guess it was such a shock for Daisuke because he kinda glorfies his Angel in his mind, and BOOM! Ugly truth right there. And I love adding people to my watch list, so no problem. ), AlChEmyOtAkU4EvEr (Thank you!), and DevilintheAngel (Will do! saultes).

With all that said, here's Intermission 3- First Love. I hope you enjoy it!

**Intermission 3**

The day was a beautiful one down at the white house by the beach. The sun was shinning brightly, but not harshly so. Nay, instead its light was a soft call, beckoning all to the sandy shore. The delicious scent of the sea wafted into the house, filling it to even the tiniest crack. This day was irresistible to all to ignore, the type of day that only lunatics or stubborn fools would stay inside to ignore the delights to be had outside.

And there were such two fools inside the white house by the beach.

Or, to be more correct, one very bright individual who wished to frolic on the white sand and feel the gentle breeze on her face, and a stubborn fool of a boy with shy nature whom she would not leave without.

The bright little girl stomped her foot and glared up at the stubborn fool of a boy hiding behind the banister of the stairs.

"Daisuke! It is a beautiful day outside, and we are NOT going to miss it!" she said with the tone of one who would simply not take no for an answer, her head held high with a mix of a confidence that always radiated from her being and annoyance.

"Why can't you go by yourself? I…I don't feel well?" the timid boy answered, looking down at his feet instead of the girl's face, his small fingers gripping the railing of the banister.

"I can NOT go by myself because we are to be friends, and I will not leave you behind to be all alone!" the bright little girl said, stomping her foot for emphasis.

"…Who said we were to be friends?" He said, shuffling his feet.

"Oh, don't be stupid! Are you still saying we can't be friends because I'm a girl? You've said that since YESTERDAY," she said, being sure to draw out the 'yesterday' to make her point (as a day is a very long time for a child such as this), "and that's become a bore now!"

"…I'm only going to be a bother to you, Miss Riku..." The boy whispered, shuffling his feet again. "That's what the other boys always say…I don't want to ruin your fun!" He said, his voice rising slightly at the end, and looking up at her, concern in his innocent little eyes. Riku bit her bottom lip, and didn't quite know what to say. Daisuke had been bullied? Well, she supposed she could see why he would be, as he was a timid little boy. But that was no excuse for bullies to pick on him! She liked him just the way he was, and if she ever saw those boys who bullied Daisuke, she'd give them what for! But since they were there (wherever there was), and they were here, she decided the 'what for' could wait (but oh, what a what for those boys would receive when she found them!) and decided right now she would try to cheer him up. So, her train of thought came back to the beach and to Daisuke, and she became more determined.

"Well, that's just the reason to go, then!" She said suddenly, snapping out of her mini pity-party she mentally had for Daisuke. His eyes that had drifted back down to his shoes looked back up at her, slightly confused. "I'm going to PROVE to you that you will NOT be a bother!" She said, raising her voice to a near shout. He shrunk back and shook his head.

"No…you won't…." He said sullenly. She stomped her foot, took off her shoe, and tossed it up at him (as she seemed to be fond of doing), hitting the banister and successful spooked the boy.

"STOP BEING SO STUPID, GET DOWN HERE, AND GO OUTSIDE WITH ME!" She walked over to where her shoe had landed, and slipped it back on. "I WILL BE GETTING MY PARISOL, AND THEN BY THE TIME I GET BACK, YOU BETTER BE READY OR ELSE!" She stomped past him on her way up the stairs and snorted angrily as she slammed her door, failing to fully elaborate what 'or else' entailed, leaving the boy in shock before he gathered his wits, decided he didn't want to know what 'or else' was, and darted to go get his shoes his father told him he'd use to go walk on the beach.

In the next room, Daisuke's father chuckled. The Misters Niwa and de Changy had been relaxing in study, which happened to be in clear earshot of the hallway in which the stairs was in. It also helped the two men had the doors wide open, so every word of their children's exchange had been clearly heard. Like most everything else in the white house by the beach, the room was a brilliant white. Since it was such a nice day, and these men were neither fools nor lunatics, the windows had been thrown open wide, and as the study happened to have quite a few many windows, and the day was quite the breezy one, so it created the effect one was sitting on the beach, but without the discomfort of sand between your toes.

"So, what do you think, de Changy? Quite a pair, aren't they?" Niwa said, holding up his wine glass for a moment, watching the bright red liquid slosh slightly to and fro before taking a sip. de Changy laughed, the red wine in his glass sloshing to and fro in a more violent fashion as he did so.

"Of course! My Riku is the very picture of a energetic, head-strong individual. Your boy is the very picture of a passive, quiet individual. They complete each other!" He said, drawing a circle in the air with his index finger. This time, Niwa laughed, tipping his glass in de Changy's direction.

"Wouldn't it be good if they happened to fall in love? I wouldn't be object to their union! Niwa and de Changy! A fine merger of families!" He said with a grin.

"Niwa, please don't tempt me!" de Changy said, shaking his head, chuckling slightly. "Mrs. de Changy has forbid me from arranging a marriage for my daughter. Something about Riku has the right to fall in love, etc., etc. It's all those little romance novels that woman has been reading. Ridiculous. Who says two people can't fall in love in an arranged marriage, eh?"

"True, but I do see where your wife is coming from. My wife and I fell in love before we…married…" Niwa said, his speech slowing and his eyes gaining a drooping look as he came to the subject of his wife. de Changy stayed silent for a moment. The wind tried to fill the silence, but failed, its gentle call falling on deaf ears.

"Niwa," de Changy began slowly, but was interrupted by Niwa, whose eyes were closed as he smiled at his friend. He opened them, and took a deep breath, then resumed his smile.

"I'm fine, my friend. I'm fine. And I have a proposal. Would you not like a union between our families?"

"A finer union you could not find. Why?"

"Let's continue to come here, to this house, each summer. The two children will surly become friends- Riku will see to that! And once they become older, we shall subtly push them in the direction they need to be pushed. After all, friendship between two of the opposite sex can eventually lead to love, and we have our marriage." Niwa said with a grin. de Changy returned the favor.

"Brilliant, my friend, simply brilliant!" de Changy said with such enthusiasm his voice almost became a roar. "But how shall we push them in the direction we choose?"

"A detail we shan't have to worry about until later! Until then, let's enjoy this day, our wine, and the brilliant company." Niwa said with a self-satisfied smirk.

And so, the two men clicked their wine glasses together in a toast to their own brilliance and leaned into their chairs to appreciate the fine day in the white house by the beach.

Meanwhile, Daisuke sneezed, and Riku shortly followed. The two had been walking along the beach while water lapped onto the shore, created pleasantly-colored foam and a calming song. Riku would twirl her white parasol as they continuously made small footprints in the sand side by side. The conversation between the two was never lacking, as Riku had scared him into replying to her questions by glares and motions to reach for her shoe to keep their dialogue going (otherwise, Daisuke would have kept silent, as this was his nature). As the trail of tiny footprints grew longer and the light in the sky grew dimmer, Daisuke had relaxed and Riku had became less demanding, and two truly began to enjoy each other's company. The two had tired of making such a long trail, and sat together as the sun began to set. They then became silent for a while, until Daisuke had spoken up.

"Riku…I haven't…I haven't been a bother to you today, have I?" he asked, his voice growing timid once more, a change from what had become his usual kind and perfectly audible tone. Riku smiled at him and shook her head.

"Not at all. Those boys who told you you're a bother are far more a bother then you'll ever be. I enjoy your company!" Riku said brightly, and Daisuke smiled back.

"Good." Daisuke paused, then looked at her. "Riku, would you like to get married some day?" Riku looked at him, perplexed. Not shocked, like most of us would be if someone we had just met had asked our hand in marriage, but curious as a child should be.

"Why?" She asked simply, her head tilted slightly.

"Well," Daisuke began, not blushing one bit as one would expected, as he was merely a child and to him, marriage was no more then a type of friendship. The word marriage had not the weight to him as it should have. "Papa told me people marry other people they like. And I like you, Riku. You're the first person besides Papa and Mama who's been nice to me. So, when we're older, we should marry." And Riku, seeing Daisuke's logic, nodded.

"I like you too, Daisuke. So we will be married."

With that said, and their friendship cemented forever more, the two got off the sandy shore and walked back to the white house by the shore, hand in hand.

**End of Intermission 3**

Ha! My longest intermission yet. I don't know if the whole last-name de Changy is right (Is it like a name middle thingy? A title thingy? Hell if I know!), so if anyone can confirm or deny, PLEASE tell me. If it's wrong, I'd like to fix it right away, and if it's right, I'll feel better about this chapter. Why can't I do it on my own? I've been a bad girl, writing and editing this between homework assignments. So, I really should be getting back to that. (Plus, I'm lazy! Duh! XP)

Anyways, I hope you're not ready to kill me…I know most of you are big Sato/Dai fans. Me too, guys. BUT, Riku's not THAT BAD of a character. Plus, they were in love, like it or not! So, I WILL go into their past! I shall leave no stone unturned when it comes to my telling of the Phantom of the Opera, DN Angel style! YAH!

Oh, and I would like you all to know how very much I appreciate all your support. You guys are all fantastic! And I've only done 5 Acts and 2 Intermissions, and I'm at 89 reviews. 89! That's an eight, then a nine! TOGETHER! This may not be a big deal to some authors, but I've never gotten this many reviews with this few of chapters. Hell, I've never even gotten this number of reviews before! That number right there makes me feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside. I loves you ALL, and with your support I'll certainly see this until the end!


	9. Intermission 4: Cold Eyes

Okay guys! Kuria here! Sorry I haven't updated in a few weeks…Kingdom Hearts 2 rules my life. XP That, and I had been studying for my ACT because that will earn me free money (scholarships)! Anyways, I managed to set enough time aside to write this. I know it's not very long, but I didn't want to give out too much information about Satoshi's past in his first Intermission. I plan on spanning his out, and boy, do I have ideas for them! I'm really excited by all the ideas I have for my Intermission…so you might only be getting Intermissions for a little while until I can get some real good, solid ideas for my next chapter. I don't know. Depends on what stroke of genius slaps me next! Anyways, Suck-Ups-and-Thankys are due to Angel Born of Darkness (Hey! Riku's only a little kid, so be kind to her! She still hasn't figured out how to be more tactful and gentle with people, but that'll come over time. Well, perhaps this chapter you'll like more. ), Molly-Chan the AnimeGame Fan (XD I SO WIN! And I'll do my best to keep updating! I really hope you enjoy this intermission!), Phantom Fox (HA! I GOT TWO PEOPLE TO ADMIT THAT IT WAS EITHER CUTE OR ACCEPTABLE! I WIN! But, as to the whole killing-Satoshi-thing, you'll just have to wait and see what I do! Don't worry, I'll tell you this much- IF (remember, this is an IF!) he dies, Riku will die before him. And even if I kill Riku, it's not guaranteed I'll kill Satoshi. It's not even guaranteed I'll kill Riku! Just don't worry about her taking Daisuke over Satoshi's dead body.), and DevilintheAngel (He fell for her because her outgoing and kind nature won him over. She's a nice peanut butter to his jelly, so to speak. And I'll update! Like now!). I'd like to give extra-special thanks to Mad-Vixxen for getting on my case every week to update. It makes me so happy you like this story that much! Thank you!

And before I begin, I'd like to make a note that at this point in his life, Satoshi is NOT in any way, shape or form disfigured. He looks just as he did in the anime/manga, but younger (He's around 10-12 right here).

With that, here's Intermission 4- Cold Eyes!

**Intermission 4**

His bare, blue feet made on the snow dull thumps as he walked along the street, but he didn't take notice. His body was consumed in shivers, but he didn't take notice. His arms were wrapped tightly against this body, still as stones, as he had given up trying to rub his body for warmth. He didn't take notice. It was far too cold a night to take notice of such trivial matters.

It was hard to take notice of anything in this sort of cold. Even thoughts of how cold one was vanished like breath into the freezing air, as all one could do was be consumed by the idea of a destination and a warm fire, and when one was devoid of that, one was devoid of everything. Everything else was a trivial matter.

So, naturally, no one took notice of the small boy with the blue hair and eyes as cold as the night walking in threadbare clothes and no shoes walking slowly through this hellish cold. No one took notice of the small boy with the blue hair and eyes as cold as the night fall to the ground, unconscious.

It did not concern her. It did not concern him. It did not concern them.

It was a trivial matter.

Warmth. That was the first thing he noticed when his eyes beat open. Warmth. It was unfamiliar. Just like where he was. He felt high quality sheets beneath and on top of him. He felt a strong yet comfortable pillow underneath his head. He felt a pair of eyes on him. His body sore, it took him some time to just simply turn his head to meet the gaze. The owner of the eyes giggled. Now, it was not a giggle in the annoying sort of way gaggles of young girls tend to do, mind you, but a truly joyful, pleasant sound only achieved from a more mature set of vocal cords. The owner of the eyes was indeed no mere girl but a woman, one who must have been in her late twenties by the look of her appearance. She was obviously a lady. A perfect lady. Yes, perfect was just the way to describe this flawless creature that graced God's earth, as everything about her was perfect. Her clothes were made of the finest material and the colors contained within the fabric perfectly complemented her complexion, her skin was a delicate, perfect pale color, her hair was perfectly in place. Ah, her hair. It was the thing that was most noticeable about her, as it was the color of a blazing fire, but held a gentle flame at the same time. A perfect hue of red. Her eyes was just as striking and perfect as well, the chocolate brown color holding no less intensity then the blaze atop her head. Her perfectly formed lips graced her face with a perfect smile as she began to speak.

"You have intense eyes, young one," She said in a gentle and soft voice. The boy could not bring his lips to speak, as he was weak. She must have noticed the reason for his silence, so she continued with little pause. "You would have died out there if not for me," She said, her lips in the perfect smile while her eyes holding no pity, no empathy. In fact, the small boy could not read her eyes at all. They were not hollow and void of emotion, but veiled. He was perplexed by them, but lacked the strength to show it in his face. He coughed, and mustered up enough in him to answer.

"If you wanted a servant boy, you could have found another street urchin. One that was not dying," He said in a hoarse whisper, bursting into a fit of coughs afterwards. The woman only giggled in her delightful, perfect way. Now that he was starting to gain his wits, he noticed the giggle was much like her eyes- it held no real emotion. It was a veil, a mask to make the people around her more comfortable. After she stopped giggling, she came to sit on the edge of the bed, the bed making little motion as she sat down. He was grateful for it. He ached so bad, the slightest disturbance would have been very uncomfortable.

"You're a bright one. I'm glad you've said what you said, because if you hadn't made such a deduction, then I would be rather upset with myself, having not spotted a bright child as I had hoped," She said, a smug look flashing in her eyes for a fraction of a second before they became veiled once more. She leaned toward the young boy, her eyes of warm brown staring into his eyes of cold blue, "Tell me, young one, was your brilliance or your eyes the reason your mother threw you out? Or do I give her too much credit and did she not have a choice?"

"Both my mind and my eyes, Madame," He said, returning the stare and adopting her veiled look. She took notice of his quick adaptation of his behavior, and begun to grin perfectly.

"She must have been afraid of you. Any sane, uneducated woman would be. But, I am quite the contrary. I am like you. An individual with a brilliant mind, though I do lack your unique eyes!" She giggled once more

"I know," The boy said simply. The woman leaned back, her grin growing.

"Wonderful. Then allow me to speak to you plainly. Live with me. I would like myself a son, but I do not wish to find myself a husband to hold down my intellectual pursuits, and to have a child without wedlock would ruin my standing in society. So, my only choice is to take a motherless child. And not just any would do. I do not want a brainless child- I want someone that I can mold into an equal, someone like me."

"You also want to seem like a humanitarian to your peers," the small boy said with a cough. The woman laughed in a proper and perfect way.

"You ARE perfect! So, young boy," The woman said, as she scooted closer to him and touched his face in a gentle and motherly fashion. "Become my son. I can give you the love your mother could never show you." The boy's eyes grew soft. He knew she was trying to emotionally manipulate him. His mind screamed this at him. But, a child is still a child, regardless of how superior his mind, and a child craves love.

His mother never touched him like this.

He was the demon child. He learned to speak far too early. He learned to walk far too early. He learned the ways of society far too early. He learned everything far too early. And there were his eyes. The eyes of ice blue. That color was unnatural, was unholy, was to be feared. She never touched him like this. She never touched him at all. She ignored him, unless her despair and anger that she felt toward the child would build up, and she would fall into hysterics, screaming she never wanted him, screaming he was a demon come from Hell to torment her, then she'd fall into a pile on the floor and sob, until one day she refused to let him in.

So, while his mind told him the offer was a good one, it also warned him that she was trying to manipulate his emotions. But the heart is far stronger and far less logical then the mind, so the young boy crumbled and with the strength of a young child that craves motherly love, flung himself into her arms. She began to stroke his hair as he wept softly into her dress.

"I'll stay, Mother," He said between sobs.

"I know," She replied. "Tell me your name, young one. Tell me what to call my little boy."

"She..she never named me.." The boy said silently as his tears continued to flow strong.

"Well, then. I'll call you Satoshi." She said gently.

"Sa..Satoshi…" He repeated as his tears started to slow. She held him and stoke his hair until his tears had dried.

"Welcome home, my little Satoshi."

**End of Intermission 4**

Oh ho ho! What a devolvement! He was 'adopted' by a beautiful lady of society? And his face is not disfigured? Then how does it happen? And what parts of Satoshi's current behavior did she influence? So many questions! Not enough answers! Well, I'll answer them in LATER Intermission! I think my next Intermission will be Daisuke and Satoshi's first meeting if I don't figure out what I want to do with the next chapter. So, please be patient! I don't know how much time I'll have to write, with the upcoming AP English exam, the big art contest at my school, and finals. I'll hopefully have something up between Monday and next Sunday, but past that, I have a lot to concentrate on, so I don't know. So please don't loose interest in me! I'll see you all again soon!


	10. Intermission 5: The Opening of Doors

Yo everyone! The Kuku here! So, I'm a FEW days late…I was going to write out the 6th chapter, but as I'm having a tad bit of writer's block and since I hit over 100 REVIEWS (You guys are freakin' awesome! ), I decided I'd do an Intermission over the beginning of Satoshi and Daisuke's relationship, because, you know, the next song is 'All I Ask of You'. And if you're familiar with Phantom of the Opera (which I'm assuming you are!), you know what's going to have to happen next. So, as a thank-you, I decided to put off on your Riku/Daisuke torture by doing a tiny bit of Satoshi/Daisuke. Well, if you could CALL it that, because at this point Satoshi is about in his late mid 20s, early 30s, and Daisuke is, like, 10 and thinks Satoshi is his father. But hey, if that's your kink! (XD I love PotO in 15 Minutes. Google it if you've lived under a rock and haven't read it. DO IT. It makes me laugh all ze time, and I have an excerpt from it on my icon on Xanga. )

Anyways, once again time for the Suck-Ups-and-Thankys! The cookies from the dark side go out to Angel Born of Darkness (Aww, really? That makes me happy, because that means I'm getting the emotions I want across! I'm glad you're able to get that involved in my stories! ), Mad-Vixxen (No, she's not Emiko. That's all I'll say about the mysterious new mother, because it's a se-cre-t! I'm really excited about writing intermissions now, because I have so many ideas for Satoshi intermissions! But that's bad, because I need main chapters too. o.o But I'm glad you continue to like my story! Thank you so much for your support!), Darkness'Creation (Damn, girl! You reviewed me, like, half a million times! …Okay, it was 7 times, but it felt like lots when I suddenly got all these emails in my inbox telling me I had all these new reviews. I'm so glad you like my story so much that you'd take the time after every chapter to review! AND your reviews put me over 100 reviews! You totally rock. ), and DevilintheAngel (I'm so glad that you get so involved in my stories! I'm really glad you enjoy this story so much!) You guys really rock! Over 100 reviews, man!

O-V-E-R 1-0-0! THIS IS A FIRST FOR THE KUKU!

Anyways, I'll shut up now and let you get to the intermission. Please enjoy!

**Intermission 5**

Normally in this situation, he would have cried. But his tears had all been cried, leaving his tiny body feeling completely void of everything. He had cried beside his papa's beside as the sickness began to take him. He had cried as he watched the once lively, joyful face of his papa become sunken with the illness as it ravaged his insides. He cried as his papa whispered his last comforting words to him, wiped his tears, and closed his eyes for the last time, his hand dropping to the side of the bed. He cried enough tears while his father was alive, and the tiny boy found that he could cry no more after his death.

"Papa," the boy whispered to the darkness as he turned to his side and held his heavy blanket to his chest, knowing full well that the darkness would not answer. It never did answer him, even in this room full of sleeping boys. The hour was late when the small boy had come to the opera house, and everyone in his dormitory was fast asleep. The stern-looking woman who had told him to call her 'Madame Emiko' had lead him here and to his bed, telling him that he should get some sleep. But he could not. Despite that he knew the darkness would not answer, he whispered once more, his voice even smaller this time, knowing the call of his heart to the person he so dearly wanted to see would be ignored.

"Papa."

As soon as he had uttered these hopeless words, he felt his torso sit up and his legs swing over the edge of the bed, as if the movements were mechanical. His feet walked him silently to the door, his bare feet making barely a sound as they touched the ground. He carefully turned the knob just so that he would not wake anyone up, and walked in silence out the gateway of this room of nothingness, this room void of the tears he had lost. He walked down the hall has if he knew where he was going, and yet he did not. His feet lead him, not knowing where they would take him. The corridors all looked the same to him as the candles had all been put out by this hour of night, and the only light came through the small windows on the south wall. His feet lead him to a door. It was a simple door, no different then any others he had seen in this new home of his. Its wood was a deep brown, its markings kept to a bare minimum so it was not completely naked but was far from elaborate. His hand rose to the door knob, his mind seeming to be shrouded in a fog and only made slight agreements to his actions. He twisted the knob and allowed the door to swing open.

Inside was a sort of prayer room. This room was much like its door- it had the makings of a prayer room, and what decorations it had were kept at a minimum to prevent the room from lacking a soul. A light-wooded cross hung on the east wall, illuminated by four blood-red candles propped up next to it by brass holders placed within the stonework of the wall. Underneath the cross was a small statue of the Virgin Mary that was placed on a small stand made of the same light wood as the cross. On the stand were also four pure white candles. The light the candles emitted was a dim one- someone had obviously neglected to extinguish the candles at the day's end. In fact, most of this room was in various states of neglect. There were layers of dust on the cross, on the stand, on the Virgin Mary, yet the candles were trimmed well as if the care-taker of this room had only the time to light and keep care of the candles, yet not enough to keep care of the rest of the room. The fact of the matter was that a local church had received a generous expansion to its grounds and the good Christians in the opera house did their practices within the walls of the House of God instead of within the walls of a tiny prayer room within the Opera Populaire. The only one who truly came to this tiny room of prayer was a chorus girl who had committed sins of the night to pay for her bread and butter before entering the opera house, so she felt inadequate to approach the holy building of God. Thus, to atone for her sins and not 'taint' in her opinion the walls of the Church, she approached the Holy One within the walls of a prayer room in which no one went to. She did not keep care of anything except the candles because she did not feel clean enough to touch them, but this is another story that is not mine to elaborate on, and must be left for another day and another time.

As the small boy continued to look around the small room, he noticed that on the north wall was a small stained-glass window depicting a kind-looking Jesus in a pleasing palette of gentle colors. In his left hand he held a shepard's staff and his right arm was outstretched to his scared and wandering flock that was all of humanity. The grass behind him was lush and green, and the small boy's imagination went wild, as he imagined from the mere glass panels how tender and springy the grass it must have felt to the touch. The sun shone in a tender manner and the blue sky was the most pleasing shade of joy. The entire scene was one of beauty and paradise in the purist form. But, what made the stained glass so comforting, so like paradise, was the smile on the Shepard's face- it comforting, as if to say to his sheep, to humanity, Come, my child. All is all right. Follow me to the warm embrace of the Father. All is all right.

The small boy walked to the kind-looking Jesus and fell abruptly to his knees, tears beginning to spring to his eyes, the smile of the Shepard tearing at his small heart. Papa was religious. Papa loved Jesus. Jesus loved Papa, so Papa had gone to Jesus. Jesus loved Papa so much he took Papa away from him. Jesus is selfish. Because of Jesus, all is not all right. Jesus took Papa into His arms. It's all His fault…the small boy began to sob.

It is hard to accept death as an event without blame when there truly is no one to blame, for without blame there is no graspable explanation of why such an event happens. At least, that is how it was for this poor child. With this discovery of a new source of blame, the boy found his tears welling within the ducts of his eyes as hatred and pain filled his fragile frame. The disease was what killed Papa, so he cried. Jesus was the one who took Papa, so he cried.

"Child, why do you cry?" came a soft voice from all around him. The boy's head slowly looked around, tears still falling from his tiny eyes. He saw nothing.

"I cry because Jesus took Papa away from me," the small boy said, his voice quivering with the sobs he held in his throat. It did not occur to him to be afraid. He was too full of pain and confusion to feel much else.

"Your papa was Kosuke Niwa, was he not?" came once more the soft voice from everywhere and nowhere. At the mention of his papa's name, the boy's tears dried and his sobs quieted.

"How…how do you know Papa? Are you…" said the boy, pausing. Papa was religious. Papa told him after he died, he would ask Jesus to send him back to earth as the Angel of Music to protect and guide him. It was, the boy thought, the least Jesus could do for being so selfish as to take Papa away from him.

"Am I what, Daisuke Niwa?" came the voice from everywhere and nowhere. The small boy grew excited, his sobs disappearing now. He almost felt certain this was him.

"Are you the Angel of Music?" the small boy asked with baited breath. He heard the voice from everywhere and nowhere chuckle in a gentle fashion.

"It depends on whom I am speaking to. Can you sing, Daisuke?" asked the voice. Daisuke nodded feverently, excited that his papa had come back to him so quickly.

"Yes! You know I can!"

"Then prove it to me," the voice said softly. If Daisuke found this request odd, being that this must have truly been his Angel, his Papa, he did not show it. He opened his small mouth and began to sing. There were no words to this song, as there are songs in this world that do not require the art of language to communicate emotion and beauty. His papa would play this particular song after Riku and her father had gone to bed following one of those sun-soaked days in the white house by the beach and when neither Daisuke nor Papa could sleep. His papa would take out his violin and play as the moon's light illuminated everything around them in a comforting glow, creating their own little world of perfection. Nothing could touch them as Papa played on those moonlit-soaked nights during the summer of their lives. Nothing could touch them as Daisuke sang on this candle-lit night during the winter of their lives. As Daisuke finished, he heard no sound from the voice from everywhere and nowhere, his Angel, his Papa. He held his breath, waiting, praying he had not been deserted. After a pause, the voice finally spoke.

"I am the Angel of Music, for I can hear IT in your voice," the voice from everywhere and nowhere said in a whisper, and if Daisuke was older, he might have noticed inside his words were a hint of the voice of a touched man, but this tiny version of our hero had not the life experience to know this. "I hear potential, greatness, perfection and so I have decided- I shall teach you the grand art of vocalization- you will be my student, and I your master. I shall make you into the finest artist of sound ever heard. And," his voice grew gentler, "I want you to fear nothing, my child, for I will protect you in this new home. Even when you do not hear me or see my shadow, I am there, for it is the duty of Angel of Music to protect those he guides."

Daisuke did not reply. A smile graced his lips before he fainted from exhaustion. Before his tiny body could hit the cold, stone ground, an arm cloaked in black from out the shadows caught his figure and pulled the frail, childish frame into his arms. The red-headed boy's head fell over into the black figure's chest. The young child had, like most young children, the sleeping face of a small angel. As the cloaked figure held the small boy, the glowing light from the stained glass fell upon Daisuke, giving him almost an unearthly glow and completing the image of an angel in the black figure's arms. A tiny smile fell upon the cloaked figure as he brushed the tiny strands of red that had fallen onto his face as he slept.

"You call me an angel, but you appear far more like an angel then I," whispered the black figure as, with a whisk of his cloak, they disappeared into the shadows.

**End of Intermission 5**

So, now it's over, I'd like to discuss a small theme in this fanfiction that may piss off some of my readers unless they try to understand where I'm coming from, and that's the issue of religion. In this Intermission, little Daisuke goes all Jesus-sucks, and he never truly gets over these feelings of resentment towards Jesus and God of the Christian religion. This is VERY IMPORTANT, I feel, about understanding Daisuke's mindset. Kosuke was, as this intermission reveals, a religious man, thus installing in Daisuke a strong sense of right and wrong (hence the reason he's such a good boy!). But, Daisuke blames religion for his father's death, so he has these conflicting feelings inside of him. Because of these conflicting emotions, Daisuke later starts to acknowledge his homosexual feelings toward Satoshi and yet rejects them at the same time, as a sort of anti-homosexual stance was in place in the Church during this time (and still is. ). So, accepting yet rejecting his feelings at the same time is akin to the inner conflict he has religion, as to accept his feelings is to acknowledge he disagrees with his father's religion and sort of let go of that part of him, but to reject it is to deny the part of him that still can't accept religion because of the 'scarring' it 'put' him through.

Short version- I write this from Daisuke's point of view, and I don't hold these feelings against Christianity as Daisuke does, so don't get angry at me.

I doubt that anyone will get THAT mad- I mean, this is a shonen-ai! I doubt I have some serious Bible-thumpin' fans- but just in case. I also like to ramble like that to get the AP English student out of my system. I think I've been in there a LITTLE too long. I see the words 'rhetorical devices' in my sleep.

Anyways, hopefully next update will be Chapter 6! Please don't hate me for it, 'coz you should know by now I'm a drama ho, so I WILL be making solid the love triangle and really developing the Riku/Daisuke side of the triangle. So please, no tomatoes, no rotten school food, no horse heads under my blankets. I love you guys, so no hurty the authoress!


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